


Flight of the Valkyrie

by Amlusa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29050068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amlusa/pseuds/Amlusa
Summary: Three worlds, three very different worlds, the collision of which could change the fate of nations.
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

"So you mean to tell me," Adele passed a hand across her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. "You answered the death of your clan... with goat?" 

The avaar laughed. "A courtroom? Unnecessary. You killed my idiot son. I responded, as is my custom, by smacking your holdings with goat blood." 

Adele, who by this time was absolutely famished and tired of the entire charade, cast a weary glance at Josephine. Josephine returned her look with a shrug. "Do not look at me." 

"Chief Movran," she said, crossing her legs, the oversized chain mail clinking. "Our encounter was accidental, but cannot be allowed to reoccur. I banish you, and your clan, with all of the weapons you can carry, to Tevinter. Make good on your word." 

Movran let out a booming laugh. "My idiot son got us something after all." And with that his bonds were released, and Movran the under was escorted from Skyhold's throne room. 

"Any further business today, Josephine?" Adele asked. 

"No, your worship." Josephine said, examining her clipboard. 

"Very well then." Adele stood, and the court stood with her, inclining their heads. "Dismissed." 

She descended the throne's pedestal, clanking like a tin man. She made her way to the war room, stopping in Josephine's foyer to shed the chain mail and oversized boots, leaving her in her socks, breeches, and plain black tunic. She had a knife strapped to each thigh, as she usually did. She collapsed into the plush armchair before Josephine's fireplace, sighing in fatigue. 

"Good work, Inquisitor." Josephine sat down in her desk chair, pulling out a leaf of parchment and scribbling away. 

"Let's cut the honorifics, Josie dear." Adele said, stretching luxuriously. "The nobles aren't watching anymore." 

"Sorry, Lady Trevel- Adele." Josephine sighed and pressed her face into her hands. "Apologies, I'm afraid my mind is quite gone at the moment." 

"I understand." Adele said as the door to Josie's foyer opened and Leliana and Cullen entered, carrying trays of food for each of them. The barkeep followed, carrying three bottles of wine and one of ale. 

"Maker bless you all, I could eat a druffalo." Adele bounced out of the armchair, taking the tray Cullen offered her and standing up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his stubble cheek. The man flushed red and mumbled something about being pestered all day. 

"Can we agree to have the meeting here? I think we could all use a less formal setting for a time." Leliana said, collapsing into the armchair next to Adele's. 

"Lovely idea Leliana." Adele said, popping a piece of bread into her mouth. Cullen was unstrapping his armor and tossing it into the corner with Adele's borrowed chainmail, stripping down to his black arming doublet and flopping down on the floor between Adele and Leliana. Josephine pulled her chair around to sit next to Leliana, and the four of them began to eat. 

"Have they found any survivors?" Leliana asked soberly. 

"Excavation is slow, as you might imagine." Cullen said quietly. Josephine opened the cork on a bottle of wine and poured four glasses. They passed them around, and Adele lifted her glass. 

"To Haven." 

"To Haven." They all drank and fell silent, gazing into the fireplace. Adele took a moment to examine them all. There was Josie, sweet Josie, with a razor sharp tongue and beautiful Antivan features. Leliana, cold and discerning to the world, soft and warm as a freshly downed pillow on the inside. Then there was Cullen, stoic and authoritative during working hours, with an acerbic wit and gentle tone, but when it came to social situations he was quiet and reserved, preferring the warm comfort of his office to the tavern. Their time in Haven had been trying, Adele spending most of her time in an indignant rage over the unfairness of it all. But she had managed to put forth an effort into getting to know the people around her, and that included Cullen, who blushed and bumbled like a schoolboy whenever she became vaguely flirtatious. Adele was flirtatious with everyone, it was just her way, but she had to admit he was an attractive man, and though she was determined not to develop attachments she found herself gravitating towards him. 

"Are all Ferelden men massive beasts?" She had once asked Leliana as they stood outside Haven's chantry, watching Cullen converse with King Alistair Theirin, who had visited after the Inquisition liberated Redcliffe from a crazed Tevinter magister. 

"Let us hope so." Dorian had said, drawing up next to her as Leliana dissolved into a fit of high, tinkling giggles. Alistair, a handsome red-haired man in his early thirties, snapped his head around to the three of them and stuck his tongue out at Leliana, which sent them all laughing and stumbling into the chantry before they could do any further damage. 

Cullen was a handsome man, to be sure. All hard, golden edges draped in muscle. The lion helmet that lived on his bookshelf certainly suited him. The way he was leaning now, sitting back on the steps into Josie's foyer, leaning on his left elbow, reminded her of images she'd seen of a lion lounging on a rock. She remembered how his face had been the first she'd seen as she crawled out of the winter abyss after Haven, falling to her knees as he came barreling towards her, catching her as she succumbed to the cold and exhaustion, the scent of elderflower and oakmoss cutting through the winter chill... 

"Inquisitor?" His voice cut her out of her reverie, and she realized with horror that she had been staring at him. Now they were all looking at her, Cullen's cheeks tinged slightly pink as Josephine failed to smother a giggle. 

"Ah- forgive me, I was lost in thought." She took a deep drink of her wine, hoping it would account for the flush spreading up her cheeks. The other women had caught her, however fooled Cullen might be, and she knew she'd never live it down. 

"Inquisitor?" Varric called, knocking on the door to Josephine's office, and they all turned to look at him as he shuffled toward her, a sheepish look on his face. 

"Varric?" 

"So, I have someone I'd like you to meet." Varric rubbed the back of his neck. "Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory, and I wrote a letter to an old friend. She's arrived, and I think it's better you met her now rather than later..." 

"Sure, Varric." Adele pulled her boots on and stood, eternally grateful for the escape, then followed Varric out to the great hall, leaving the borrowed chainmail in it's heap in the corner. The night sky had dimmed the room to the golden glow of the candles and fireplaces. Varric seemed fidgety and paranoid, glancing around them as they cut through Solas's rotunda, heading to the battlements. 

"Are you alright, Varric?" Adele asked. 

"Yeah, kid, I'm good." He sighed as the night air hit them. "It's just that this friend, she, uh, has a bit of a reputation, might piss some people off to know she was here-" 

"Varric..." Adele came to a dead stop, realization punching her in the gut. Varric turned slowly around to face her, guilty look on his face. "Oh Varric, you didn't..." 

"Yeah, yeah I did." He sighed and began walking again, waving for her to follow. Adele groaned and followed him, keeping a watchful eye for Cassandra. 

As they came to the western tower, Varric lead her down the stairs to where a woman was leaning, Mage's staff strapped to her back. She turned her head to look at them, and Adele, though having her strong suspicions, was still taken aback. 

"Inquisitor Adele Trevelyan, meet Lora Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall." 

"Though I don't use that title much anymore." Hawke's voice was silky and lilting, not at all what Adele expected, and she reached out to clasp Adele's forearm. She was beautiful, in a terrifying kind of way. Her skin was pale as milk, with nary a line or wrinkle. She had a slim, angular face and high cheekbones, with a regal nose and two almond shaped eyes like chips of glowing aquamarine. The left side of her head was shaved, accented by a braid that curved around the area. The rest of her ebony hair was shoulder length and accented with various small braids and dreadlocks, some adorning beads with odd symbols carved into them. 

"I thought you might have some good pointers about fighting Corypheus." Varric said, moving over to a stack of crates and popping the lid off a bottle of ale, taking a long drink. 

"You've already dropped half a mountain on the bastard, I'm sure anything I could tell you pales in comparison." Hawke said, resuming her lean against the banister. Adele stood next to her, looking out over the quieting court of Skyhold. 

"Oh, I don't know, you did save a city from a horde of rampaging Qunari." 

"I don't see how that really applies." Hawke said with a quirked lip. "Or is there a horde of rampaging Qunari I don't know about?" 

"There is a Qunari, and he qualifies as a horde all by himself, but he's on our side, so no worries." Adele took an offered bottle of ale from Varric and thanked him with a nod, leaning against the railing next to Hawke. The other woman was gazing out over the courtyard, aquamarine eyes fixed on the Inquisition banner hanging over the door to the main hall. Adele took a swig of the ale, then handed it to Hawke. She cast Adele a smirk and took the ale, tipping the bottle up. 

"I killed Corypheus once. Or thought I did, anyways." She handed Adele the bottle. "The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used their connection to the darkspawn to control them." 

"Corypheus got into their heads." Varric said, and the two women turned to him. "Messed with their minds and turned them against us." 

"It's likely he could have done it again." Hawke said with a nod. 

"So Corypheus has the Venatori, the Red Templars, and now possibly the Grey Wardens?" Adele took a long swig from her bottle of ale, grimacing at the flavour. 

"Indeed, but I did not come just to bear bad news." Hawke reached for the bottle, and Adele handed it to her. "I have a contact, a Warden named Stroud. He was checking on something for me near Crestwood when he defected. We can meet him there, see what he knows." 

"It's a better lead than nothing." Adele pondered. "We'll need a few days to get everything prepared, but until then you're welcome to stay in Skyhold, Hawke." 

"She'll have to keep a low profile," Varric said, shuffling his feet. "The last thing I want is Cassandra finding out she's here." 

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Adele gestured for Hawke to follow her, and the three of them made their way down the battlements. 

"So, am I to be hidden away forever, Varric?" 

"Just until I can figure out how to tell Cassandra." Varric grumbled. 

"So, forever then." 

"We could simply tell her Hawke appeared to us unbidden." Adele said, rounding the corner towards Cullen's office. "It wouldn't be that unbelieveable." 

"Fair plan, Inquisitor." Varric chuckled grimly. "Now she just has to believe it." 

"I will handle that." Adele said, pausing at the top of the stairs and scanning the courtyard. The sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon, and the few people in the courtyard were heading indoors, none paying them any mind. "In the meantime, I will see you both in the morning." 

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Hawke inclined her head only a little sarcastically, and Adele rolled her eyes. 

"Call me Adele, Hawke. Or Trevelyan. Or whatever you like, just no honorifics. I'm quite exhausted of it." 

"Does that go for me, too?" Varric said. "I'll have to work on your nickname, haven't been able to come up with one yet." 

"You're slipping, Varric." Hawke cooed, pinching the dwarf's cheek. A brief flash of sisterly fondness softened her features. Varric waved her off, rubbing his cheek. 

"Nothing a night in the Herald's Rest with an ale or five can't fix." 

"I'll leave the two of you to that, then." Adele felt the weariness begin to creep back into her bones. "Varric, show Hawke to Cole's roost, please." 

"Sure thing, kid." Varric beckoned Hawke to follow him, and the two of them sauntered back towards the Herald's Rest attic, heads bent together conspiratorally. 

Adele sighed and tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, turning back to cut through Cullen's office to the rotunda. She rapped twice on the door to be sure he hadn't returned while she was with Hawke, and when she got no reply she pushed the door inward, met with candlelight she wasn't expecting. 

Cullen was slumped in his chair, head tucked onto his right shoulder, a quill loosely clasped in his right hand, fast asleep in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. Adele chuckled and approached him, footsteps quiet in the still of the evening, and pulled the quill from his hand, placing it back in it's holder on the desk. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and whispered softly, "Cullen..." 

His eyes shot open, unseeing and flaming gold, and suddenly her back hit the wall, knocking the breath from her lungs, while a massive arm pinned her across her chest, a biting knife at her throat. She gasped for breath, the anchor crackling and filling the room with sickly green light, grasping the wrist that held the knife to her throat. 

"Though all before me is shadow," he growled, straining against her hand to press the knife into her neck. "Yet shall the maker be my guide. Begone, demoness, you cannot-" 

A loud cracked and the anchor flared, and Adele choked out a sob as Cullen was thrown back into the desk. She fell to the ground, coughing and gasping, her left arm screaming in pain. She looked up at Cullen, who had come to his senses and eas watching her chest heaving. 

"Maker's breath, I'm so sorry-" 

"It's okay, Cullen." She rubbed her neck and flexed her marked hand, the glow dying down to a faint flicker once more. She took a step toward him, reaching out. "Are you-" 

"No- I mean I'm fine, just-" he flinched away from her and she halted, heart sinking into the pit of her stomach. He didn't want her here. He didn't want a mage touching him. 

"I suggest you get some sleep, Commander." Adele drew herself up to her full height and put on what Dorian called her Inquisitor face, turning and heading out the door without a second glance at him. Her heart thudded in her chest in time to her heeled footfalls on the cobblestones, passing through Solas's rotunda and the great hall uninterrupted and slamming the door to her quarters behind her. She fell onto her settee, hand pulsing painfully, gritting her teeth against the sharp pain coursing through her left arm. This was the worst she'd had in a while. 

When it was done she slumped, exhausted, onto the settee and closed her eyes, trembling with the aftereffects of the attack. She barely had the strength to kick off her boots before exhaustion overtook her and she succumbed to sleep, the smell of elderflower and oakmoss clinging to her skin and clothes. 

\----- 

"Adele." A hand was gripping her shoulder, bringing her from the realm of blissful sleep to a pounding headache and a horridly dry mouth. She groaned, passing a hand over her face and opening bleary eyes. Dorian sat on the settee next to her, mustachioed mouth twisted into a concerned frown. 

"Maker, what time is it?" 

"You've missed morning meetings and combat training with the mages." Dorian's silver eyes roamed over her, brows drawing down in concern. "You had another attack, didn't you?" 

Adele sat up and groaned, one hand clapping her pounding head. Dorian swore and placed his fingertips to her temples, sending a steady stream of cool, healing mana through her head. She sighed in relief, leaning into his hands. 

"You stubborn mule, you were to call for Solas and I immediately if another one struck. You know-" 

"I'm sorry, Dorian." She stood, flinching at the light streaming through the windows. "I didn't want to bother you." 

"Inquisitor, you must remain well in order to see this through." Solas had appeared at the top of her stairs, frame tall and almost impossibly straight. "It is part of our job to keep you safe and healthy. We cannot do so if you do not alert us when you are ill." 

"Understood, Solas." She sighed as she caught sight of the pile of paperwork on her desk. "Give me a moment to bathe?" 

"Of course." Dorian stood to assist her but she waved him off, sliding into her bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She waved her hand and filled the porcelain tub with a large block of ice, wincing as her empty pool of mana strained. She sighed and stuck her head out, rolling her eyes at Dorian. He gave her a half hearted smirk and moved to help her, leaving Solas curled up on the settee with a book. 

"There is no shame in needing help, lovely." He said as he began channeling heat into the ice. Adele snorted and began unstrapping her knives from her thighs, tossing them onto a nearby stool. 

"I asked you in here, didn't I?" 

"Indeed you did." Dorian's eyes flashed suddenly and he snatched her hand, ignoring her protests as he pulled her closer to him and tilted her chin up, examining her neck. She groaned inwardly as she realized there must be a scar from Cullen's blade. "Dor-" 

"What is this?" He demanded, voice poisonous. "What happened?" 

"It's nothing." She said, detaching herself from him and rubbing her throat. She winced as she felt the paper thin cut and the blood that had crusted around it. "I went to visit Cullen last night and accidentally woke him from a nightmare. It took him a moment to shake the dream away-" 

"And he pressed a knife to your throat?" Dorian asked incredulously. He began to pace, and the ice cube in the tub began to shrink alarmingly fast, steam rising. "I knew the man wasn't the brightest candle in the box but I never thought he was a complete imbecile." 

"Dorian, he didn't mean to." Adele sighed and turned to the mirror as Dorian continued pacing behind her. "We don't know what he's been through." 

"Dreams can be particularly strong in Templars due to their connection to the fade via lyrium." Dorian said, stopping his pacing. 

"Again, we don't know what he's been through." An unbidden image of Antony's face came to mind, twisted in fear, eyes black and unseeing. Dorian sat against the edge of the tub, muttering to himself. 

She examined her reflection in the mirror. Two emerald green eyes stared back at her, sunken and glazed. Her dark brown hair had been pulled back into an intricate braided top knot for the judgements yesterday, but was now in a tangled disarray. Her freckled skin was paler than normal, tinged with color only where her makeup had run. She began pulling the pins out of her hair as Dorian finished heating the water, untying the braids with shaking fingers. After a quick brush her hair hung nearly to her waist, wavy and dark. 

A crash echoed from the main chamber, and the two exchanged a look before flying out the door. Solas had a hand raised toward the balcony door, slender brows narrowed, and in the doorway stood Hawke, arms raised in surrender. A pile of books lay scattered at her feet. 

"My apologies, Inquisitor." Hawke drawled, blue eyes flashing. "I wasn't aware you had guests." 

"Hawke." Adele sighed and waved Solas off. 

"Hawke? As in, THE Hawke?" Dorian asked, eyes wide. Hawke rolled her eyes and crossed the room to the bed, where she sat and began removing her boots and armor. 

"Yes. Dorian, Solas, this is Lora Hawke. Who is SUPPOSED to be keeping a low profile." Adele shot Hawke a glare, and the other woman, who had stripped down to her leggings and tunic, snorted and flopped back on the bed. 

"I was keeping a low profile." She said. "Until Cole found me and started getting a little too into my head." 

"Ah, yes." Dorian gave a small laugh. "He does that." 

"Anyways, Cassandra is out on patrol, my little birds tell me." Hawke said, yawning widely. 

"Well, as long as you weren't seen." Adele said, rubbing her forhead. "I'm going to bathe, try not to create too much havoc in my absence." 

"No promises, your worship." 

"And don't call me that, lest you want me to start calling you 'Champion.'" Adele slipped through the door with a smirk at Hawke's groan. She shucked her clothing and slid beneath the water with a quiet groan, the other three's hushed conversation fading into the background. Unbidden images of Cullen from the night before sprang to mind, and she groaned, sliding beneath the water like she could drown them. 

She exited and dried herself a few minutes later, donning a white tunic and leggings before entering the chamber proper to find Hawke asleep on the bed and Solas and Dorian speaking quietly on the settee. Adele shook her head and gathered a spare blanket from the chest at the end of her bed, tucking it over the other woman, who mumbled something in her sleep. Adele shook her head with a small smile, an odd sense of affection coming over her despite the fact that she had met this woman just yesterday. She penned three quick notes to her advisors and walked down to her door, where the usual scout was standing. 

"Please take these to my advisors." She said, handing the letters to the scout. "Tell them I will be handling business from my quarters today, and not to hesitate to send word or visit if they have any questions." 

"Yes, Lady Trevelyan." The scout clapped a hand to his chest and set off. Adele closed the door behind her and moved back up the stairs to her desk, where Solas and Dorian were waiting for her. 

"All right, Gentlemen." She waved a hand at them and sat, pulling the first missive from her massive pile of paperwork. "Do your worst." 

Dorian and Solas began their examinations while Adele worked through her papers, and by mid afternoon they had deemed her stable and reluctantly consented to her traveling to Crestwood the next week with Hawke provided one of them went with her. She agreed to bring Solas and released them to their duties. 

The rest of the afternoon passed in quiet solitude, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and Hawke's gentle snoring. The sun set through the glass panes off the balcony doors, and Adele finally sat back, the last of the paperwork sorted into three piles, one to pass on to each advisor. She sighed and passed a hand over her face as her page slipped into the room, briefly eyeing Hawke before approaching the desk. 

"Inquisitor, Commander Rutherford is here to see you. Should I see him in?" 

Adele froze, a thrill of panic shooting through her stomach before she composed herself. "Yes, please, Stephen. Could you please see that these are delivered as well?" 

"Of course, Inquisitor." Stephen bowed and took the two piles addressed to Leliana and Josephine before sliding out the door. Adele fidgeted at her desk as Cullen entered the room, steps hesitant and unsure. 

"Come in, Cullen." Adele gave him a tired smile and gestured to the chair opposite her desk. He smiled gratefully and sat, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I was about to make some tea, would you care for some?" 

"Yes, thank you, Adele." She gave him a smile and set about heating the water over her fireplace and pulling two mugs from her desk. There was a tin of loose tea on her desk, and she measured it into the mugs. 

"Adele," she stopped and looked up to find him staring at her neck, his face a picture of tortured regret. "About last night-" 

"It's alright." 

"No, it isn't, I-" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have nightmares, as you saw last night. I hurt you, could have-" 

"Cullen, stop." She stood and came to sit in the chair next to him, placing her hand over his. "I understand. My brother was a templar. The things he saw would have him waking up screaming at times. That is why my mother developed this tea." The kettle began to whine over the fire, and Adele gave his hand one last squeeze before hurrying to remove it before it woke Hawke. She poured the boiling water over the tea leaves and placed the kettle on the mantle floor, sitting next to Cullen while the tea began to steep. "She made it for him and his bunkmate. It works wonders." 

"The Lady Arielle Trevelyan is an herbalist?" He asked, leaning over to breathe in the steam from the mug. 

"The Lady Trevelyan is an Apostate." Cullen's head snapped back to her, eyes wide. Adele smirked and fiddled with a quill on her desk. "Had you never wondered why I, a fairly practiced mage, knew very little of Circle life?" 

"How?" Cullen's eyes were searching her face, as though looking a hint of abomination or maleficarum in her features. She chuckled. 

"When my mother was a girl, she lived on the outskirts of Ostwick. Her father had died when she was very young and her mother made a living for them as a seamstress. When my grandmother found that my mother had magic, she panicked, as she did not want her beloved daughter subjected to the Circle. So, she sought out a clan of Dalish elves camped in the forests near Ostwick. The Keeper sought an arrangement, my grandmother agreed, and my mother was taught how to use her magic safely, outside the confines of a Circle. She visited the Keeper every day for weeks, and when the clan was ready to move on for the season my mother was able to safely control and practice her magic. The Keeper would send messengers when they would arrive back in the area, and my mother would continue her education with them until she was eighteen." 

"And then she taught you." Cullen said quietly, amber eyes searching hers. 

"And then she taught me." Adele smiled at him and stirred her tea. "And Clan Lavellan have been welcome guests at Trevelyan Castle every year." 

"That's..." Cullen seemed to struggle for words, and Adele raised her brow at him, fingering the handle of her spoon. "Honestly it's unbelievable." 

"Is it?" Adele's eyes flickered to Hawke, who was still dead asleep on the bed beneath the blanket, one small braid sticking out from underneath the edge. "Is it truly difficult to believe that allowing mages to train from the comfort of their homes, surrounded by their families, could work?" 

"I-" he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his forhead, a pained expression on his face. Adele leaned back in her chair, waiting for him to retort. When he didn't, she picked up her mug and took a sip of her tea, the warmth relaxing her body and easing away any lingering pains from the anchor and her unorthodox sleeping position. 

"The tea helps with headaches as well." She said to him, and he looked wearily at her, then to the mug on her desk. He picked up the mug slowly, inhaling the fragrant steam, then took a sip. Almost instantly, the deep gouges across his forhead seemed to ease, and he sat back in his seat, looking into the mug. 

"What is this?" He asked, looking up at her. 

"A blend of elfroot, dawn lotus, and blood lotus." Adele said, crossing her legs. "Dawn lotus is actually fairly plentiful on our grounds, and Mama makes sure the flowers are tended to properly. They have the most incredible scent." 

"I may have to requisition some, for this tea." 

"On that matter." Adele reached over her desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment she had been working on for the last week. "I had thought to repurpose the garden into an herb garden for our healing supply stock. I found some Dawn Lotus seeds during my time in the fallow mire and I think i could maintain a plant here." 

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Cullen said, a tight smile forming on his face. Adele returned it and looked away, fiddling with a small figurine of Andraste that sat on her desk. A tense silence filled the air, both of them sipping their tea. Adele saw him open his mouth to speak, but before he could Hawke mumbled something in her sleep and turned over, causing Cullen to whip his head around. 

"Is... is there someone in your bed?" He said, his neck flushing as he turned back to look at her. 

"Ah... yes. But not like that," she said hurriedly as the flush crept up to his ears. "A friend of Varric's stopped in, they needed a place to stay and found their way up here." 

"Maker's Breath." Cullen groaned and lowered his face into his hands. "Please tell me it isn't who I think it is." 

"Alright." Adele drained her mug and stood, nudging him to finish his. He relented with a grunt and handed her the mug. "It isn't who you think it is. And you don't know she's here." 

"But-" 

"You don't-" Adele placed the mugs on the floor next to them and took his chin in her hand, forcing him to look up at her. His breath caught and his amber eyes snapped to hers, pupils dilating, mouth opening slightly. "know-" she saw what remained of his irises darken to a chocolate brown. "that she-" she saw his knuckles whiten on the armrests of the chair out of the corner of her eye. "-is here." They sat deadlocked like that, Cullen hardly breathing. "Understand?" 

"I understand." He said breathlessly, words nearly inaudible. 

"Good man." She released his chin and stood straight again, gathering the mugs. "If there is nothing else you wished to discuss?" 

"Ah- no, Inquisitor." Cullen cleared his throat and stood, and she gestured to the pile of papers on her desk. "I will see you for war council tomorrow." 

"Very good." She escorted him out and placed the mugs next to the door for the servants to collect. "And Cullen?" 

He turned, eyes melting into near blackness again as she leaned against her doorway, cocking out one hip. "Yes, Inquisitor?" 

She felt her lips part slightly and her core tighten at the look of predatory hunger on his face. Her knees suddenly felt weak, and she fought for her control. "Sleep well." 

"And you, Inquisitor." The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk and he turned, striding back down the hallway to the entrance to the main hall. Adele sighed and forced herself back upright on her shaking legs, shutting and locking the door behind her. She climbed the stairs to find Hawke sitting up in bed, hair in a messy dark halo around her head, a wicked grin splitting her face. 

"So, we've got a firm hand on Curly, eh?" She wiggled her dark eyebrows and cackled when Adele rolled her eyes. "I'm famished, whats for dinner?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke learns a bit about Cole. 
> 
> Cullen gets a stern talking to, then teased mercilessly at boys' night.
> 
> Adele travels to Crestwood.

Silken skin brushed skin beneath sheets, and breathless moans passed between lovers' lips. Blonde strands of hair filled her visage as her lips found his temple, his breath warming her damp neck as her nails bit into the flesh of his back. His movements above and within her matched hers, and she felt the precipice approaching, gasping into his ear. His movements sped, her walls fluttered around him, her core tightening... 

"Lora." She looked up into his whiskey eyes, only to find they were filled with grief and betrayal. A small bubble of blood bloomed at the corner of his mouth and dripped down his chin. Despite all this he continued his thrusting. "Why did you kill me, Lora?" 

"Anders." Her voice was a choked sob, grief ripping through her heart anew as one bloody hand came up, tracing the side of her face from her eyebrow to her cheekbone, the light fading from those beautiful whiskey eyes... 

Hawke woke with a gasp, chest heaving, tears streaming down her face, and shot herself upright as bile rose in her throat. She scrambled through the bathroom door and made it to a spare bucket in time to vomit up the lovely dinner she had shared with Adele. 

When she finished she sat back, leaning heavily against the bathtub with tears streaming down her face. Agony, grief, guilt all took turns ravaging her weakened body, and she fought against them, pushing them out with the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. 

Dearest child. A voice purred, slimy and unpleasant, clawing at the inside of her brain. Remember what I told you. I can bring them all back. Your love, your mother, your father, all of them... 

"Never!" Hawke gasped, hands clawing against the stone floor, nails breaking. "My choices are mine to bear alone, demon. Nothing can change what has happened." 

You are an admirable liar, Lora. The demon purred. But remember, I see what is within. You want him back, and I can give him to you- 

"ENOUGH." She roared, and a golden spear manifested in her hand, glittering wildly before shattering a floor length mirror before her. It disappeared with the voice of the demon, leaving Hawke gasping on the floor if the bathroom, surrounded by shattered glass. 

"Soft hands, healing hands, mending my wounds, mending my heart, even when he is suffering so, oh how did I come to deserve this?" Hawke nearly yelped in shock as the straw haired boy with the floppy hat appeared suddenly next to her. 

"Cole, Maker's Breath-" 

"He loves you. And he wants you to be happy." Hawke's breath left her body as she stared into the young man's icy blue eyes. 

"Who, Cole?" 

"Anders." Cole said plainly. "He knows it wasn't your fault. He wasn't him anymore, and he knows it. It was tearing him apart. He just wants you to be happy again." 

"Cole..." she sighed and leaned her head back on the bathtub. "Thank you, but I don't-" 

"Come." Cole stood and offered her a hand, and after a moment wondering if it was corporeal she took it and stood gingerly, pacing around the shards of glass waiting to impale her bare feet. 

"Adele, where is she?" Hawke's head felt thick and fuzzy as they entered the main room. Adele had fallen asleep next to her in bed shortly after they finished eating, the exhaustion of her attack and the day since taking it's toll. The two women had hardly known one another for a full two days, and yet Hawke felt herself drifting toward this sweet soul with the large green eyes that had been hurled headfirst into a moutain of responsibility and handled it like a badass. The sisterly bond that had very quickly developed between them made Hawke nervous. She hadn't felt one like it since Merrill, then Bethany. 

"She had to go to an argument between two templars, to make it quiet again." Cole helped her into bed and sat on the edge. His hand tentatively reached out and begin drawing patterns along her temple and cheekbone the way her mother used to. Exactly the way her mother used to. And before long, Hawke felt herself slip under into a dark, dreamless sleep. 

\-----  
Cullen hit the ground with a solid thud, the ground shaking from the impact. Bull laughed above him and cracked his neck, offering a hand up. Cullen took it and hauled himself to his feet, grunting with the soreness in his left knee. It had been acting up since Haven, probably high time to get it evaluated by a healer. 

But that would require time spent on himself. Which wasn't something he was prone to. 

"That knee giving you trouble, Cullen?" Bull, ever taking Cullen by surprise with his observance, was wrapping his fists with tape. Cullen grabbed his discarded shirt and wiped the sweat from his face, grimacing. 

"I keep telling the stubborn ass to go to the healer." Blackwall said, landing a particularly vicious blow to the training dummy with his practice sword. 

"And I keep telling you, it's fine." Cullen grumbled, shaking out his leg. "Just a little tight from the march through the mountains." 

"Nothing a healer can't fix up." Blackwall said. 

"I've decided you spend too much time with Sera." Cullen said, walking over to the well and drawing up a bucket of water for the three of them. The men were sparring in the yard outside Blackwall's barn, farther away from the prying noble eyes of the courtyard. It was dinnertime, and the gentlemen had made plans to eat at the Tavern rather than in the Great Hall with everyone else. Cullen was initially skeptical about Bull's invitation, preferring to take his meals alone in his study so he could work while he ate. However, he had found the gentlemen's company welcome the past few hours, and resolved to train and dine with them more often, should their respective duties to the Inquisition allow. 

"And why is that?" Blackwall said, arching a thick black brow. 

"Because you've become exceedingly meddling and annoying." 

Blackwall sent a well aimed whack to Cullen's leg, causing the other man to dump the water he'd been holding down his front with a yell. 

"Well, isn't this a fine sight." The men turned to see Dorian approaching the trio, Varric trailing behind him. Cullen pulled his shirt over his head, neck burning. "Are all the members of Inquisitor's male entourage doomed to fend for themselves for the next month?" 

"All but the weirdo elf and the ghost kid." Bull grumbled. 

"Technically I am not a member of the entourage." Cullen said, wiping his face on his sleeve. 

"Yes, but a fawning fool all the same." Blackwall quipped. The group of men roared with laughter as Cullen spluttered, hastily reaching for a comeback and coming up empty-handed. 

"Enough torturing the poor man. Let's go get some grub, I'm starved." Bull clapped a massive hand on Cullen's shoulder. Cullen smiled gratefully at Bull before catching Dorian's eye. The mage nodded curtly at him and spun on his heel, striking up a conversation with Bull as the group trudged toward the Herald's Rest. 

"Are you a complete imbecile?" Dorian's voice preceded his office door slamming open, exacerbating the pounding in his temples. He looked up as Dorian came storming into the room, ambient magic a glimmering purple cloud around him in his rage. He turned his flashing silver eyes to Cullen and halted upon seeing the man slumped st his desk, eyes black holes in his face. 

"Tell me, then." Dorian waved a hand at him, the cloud of energy about him receding a bit. "What reason could you have possibly had for attacking her." 

"Dorian-" 

"She's under the impression you were not completely lucid, and is, of course, pretending to be completely unbothered. But she is, I can tell. And you had better start telling me what happened." Dorian was pacing in front of his desk during the diatribe, stalking Cullen like a dragon. 

"I will claim no good reasoning, Dorian." Cullen croaked, slumping back in his chair. His head had been pounding all morning, a secondary result of his lack of sleep. "I have... nightmares." 

Dorian had stopped pacing and was watching him, clearly waiting for him to continue. Cullen sighed, trying to decide how much to tell the man. 

"When I was a young man, a freshly minted templar, in fact, I had an encounter with a desire demon. It took the form of a woman I had an infatuation with at the time, a mage in the circle. Needless to say, it was an unpleasant experience." 

"I take it you have nightmares revolving around this incident?" 

"Yes. Most recently, the demon takes on her form. Adele's form." 

Dorian stopped pacing, contemplating his words. The ambient cloud of magic was slowly receding. "I will not pretend that this justifies anything you have done. I will not pretend this excuses your behavior. I will not pretend this can heal what she has been through at your hand. You," Dorian planted his hands on the desk and jabbed a finger into Cullen's chest. "Will visit her this evening, hat in hand, and apologize, and hopefully the sweet woman will find it in her heart to forgive you. And you shall never lay a hand on her again. Do you understand?" 

Cullen had not bothered to tell Dorian that he had planned on doing just that once their daily work was finished. He had not bothered to say that the knowledge he had hurt her was tearing him apart from the inside out, intentional or not. What had happened was despicable, and no matter his feelings toward Adele (because after Haven, he could no longer deny there were feelings) he would not put her in a position to be hurt by him again. 

He had utterly failed later that night, in terms of keeping her at a distance. His infatuation seemed to only grow stronger with every kind word, every gentle touch, every earnest sentiment that passed her lush pink lips. Her wide eyes, which held all the warmth and color of a summer glen, took him apart and put him back together again as though he were a child's puzzle box. The smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose gave her a youthful air, and her thick chestnut hair practically begged him to run his fingers through it. But he wouldn't, not while he was at risk of hurting her. 

As trying as her absence was, both professionally and for whatever was budding between them, Cullen was thankful for the time apart. He hoped it would give him some space to recover from this mild infatuation (for that's all it was, right?) and carry on with his duties. 

"Aye, Commander." Blackwall nudged him as they took their seats in the tavern, Varric loudly greeting half the patrons. "You've caught someone's eye." 

That someone, it turned out, was a gaggle of noble Ferelden women just over the age of twenty, eyeing their table and giggling behind their hands. Cullen felt his ears grow hot and turned back to the table as the bartender plopped a tankard of mead in front of him. 

"I hope they enjoy disappointment." He muttered. "I've got my hands full trying to run an Inquisition at the moment." 

"That's why you need to take the time to relax, Rutherford." Blackwall said, taking a long swig of his mead. "Stretch your, ah, legs." 

"I'm not a young man anymore, Blackwall. I'm done with the, ah, 'stretching' phase of my life." 

"You're never done with the stretching phase, Cullen." Bull cut in, wicked grin on his scarred face. "Not if you do it just right-" 

"Anyways..." Cullen said loudly as the rest of the table snickered. "My affairs are quite in order, thank you all very much." 

"Is that so?" Varric leaned toward him at the end of the table. "Because I've been in the room with you and Sweetheart, and I could cut the tension with a knife." 

"There's nothing to come of it." Cullen said, willing to put the matter to rest. "I do not bode well for her and I doubt she is interested anyhow." 

The men shared a look, all but Dorian, who was watching him with a curious expression, swirling his wine glass. The conversation was stopped short by the arrival of the food, and Cullen immersed himself in Varric's storytelling, Bull's bawdy jokes, and far too many meads. 

\----- 

My dearest daughter,   
Words cannot begin to express how happy I am to hear you are alive and safe. Your brothers and I were overcome when your letter reached us. After hearing of nothing but the horrors of Haven's attack for weeks on end, I was quite at my wit's end for fear of your safety. 

As for the tea for your Commander, I have enclosed several prepared satchets as well as seeds to grow more. I cannot wait to hear about how the Skyhold garden is coming along. 

My little Addy, I am so unbelieveably proud of the incredible woman you have become. The things you have survived would destroy any lesser man or woman, mentally and physically. You have risen to every challenge thrown your way, and I have no doubt in my mind you will be victorious in your mission. I plan to visit Skyhold before the season's end, please let me know when the best time would be. 

Love, forever and ever, 

Mama.

Adele folded the letter back into her vest for what had to be the fifth time that week. The rains at Crestwood, though slowly subsiding since the closing of the underwater rift, could be temperamental and had the ability to ruin the ink at any given moment. She leaned against the balustrade on the top level of Caer Bronach, gazing out over the waterlogged hills and valleys of Crestwood. 

"You seem to be in good spirits." She glanced up to see Solas gliding his way over to her, customary polite smile softening his features. 

"It's the light off your head, it paints a complementary glow to my features." Adele said, casting him a grin. 

"Well, I shall be sure to stand nearby at all times." Solas said, perching next to her on the balustrade. Adele examined the good-natured elf, noting how much taller he was than most of the other elves she'd met, nearly reaching Cullen. "Are you feeling well?" 

"Just fine, Solas." Adele turned her gaze back out over Crestwood. "You've done a remarkable job, and I thank you for all your hard work." 

"It is no trouble at all, my friend." He handed her a pouch containing a potent-smelling herbal blend. "Inhaled, and combined with your mother's tea, this calming blend will help you sleep. It should also help prevent the attacks." 

"Thank you, Solas." She patted his cheek and stood, stretching her back. "Is everyone prepared to ride out?" 

"Ser Hawke and Sera are awaiting us by the stables." Solas offered her his arm and she laughed, looping her arm through his and allowing him to escort her down to the stables. 

They had occupied Caer Bronach for nearly three weeks now, and the fortress was fully operating as a hub for Leliana's agents. Their time in Crestwood had not only been productive but healing for Adele. The destruction of Haven and their flight into the mountains, not to mention finding and repairing Skyhold, taking on the mantel of Inquisitor, entertaining any visiting dignitaries, and Varric bringing Hawke into the fold had been alot to shoulder. It was honestly no wonder to Adele that she'd had an attack that night, and the longer they were here the more apparent it was that she had been cooped up for too long. If she didn't miss Dorian and the rest of her team so much she would be remiss to return. 

Hawke had been a welcome addition to her party. In addition to being good for moral with her quick wit and jovial nature (and in Sera's words "eye candy") she was a fierce fighter, nearly a warrior in her own right. While most other mages Adele had met preferred to fight at the rear, more support than offense, Hawke preferred to get up close and personal, manifesting weapons out of the fade that shone with a gold light. At one point, while being accosted by a horde of undead, Hawke had manifested a dual blade and decapitated half of them with a single swing. Before the rest of them could move to assist, Hawke had finished the horde of twenty undead off with a blast of fire and one last swing of her dual blades, and emerged from the smoking carnage covered in blood and practically vibrating with the fury of battle. Sera had dissolved into a fit of awed giggles next to Adele, followed by a quiet "phwoar." 

The group to Crestwood had been comprised of Adele, Hawke, Sera, Cole, and Solas. Adele had wanted her rogues on hand for swift, quiet movement in getting to Hawke's Warden contact, a man named Stroud, with minimal detection. Of course, when they arrived, they found there was more going on than a simple extrication mission. The area was plagued by dead rising from the lake, which apparently had been the site of old Crestwood before a flood destroyed the town. A rift had opened beneath it, causing the dead to rise. This lead into an investigation against Crestwood's mayor, who in turn fled, and a manhunt ensued. In the meantime, they needed to plan for a trip to the Western approach. 

The trip back was relatively peaceful, good weather, minimal interruptions. Which, apparently, wasn't good enough for Sera. 

"So, Hawke, Champion, whatever." Sera said as they took a meal approximately a day out from Skyhold. "You like peaches or links?" 

"I don't follow, love." Hawke said from her perch against the trunk of a tree, mouth half full of apple. Adele rolled her eyes, knowing full well that Hawke knew exactly what Sera was asking. She felt Solas sigh next to her, elbow brushed up against hers. They had been sitting together on the blanket they laid out for lunch, discussing a passage on veilfire in one of Solas's books. Now they had grown silent in the wake of Sera's appalling brashness. 

"You knoooooow..." Sera shuffled closer to Hawke, who was wearing the air of a cat watching a particularly bold mouse. "Dickies or puss?" 

"Maker, Sera..." Adele groaned. 

"It's all right, Sweetheart." Hawke said, casting a grin her way. "Why an 'or', Sera, when it could be an 'and'?" 

"If that's true, then why shack up with the abomination?" Hawke's grin dropped immediately. "You knew he was, right? Why not go for the sexy pirate lady?" 

"Sera, that's enough." 

"Because love is fucking stupid, Sera." Hawke said blandly, throwing the apple core clear across the meadow. "Are we done here?" 

"Did he have a big log, or-" 

Hawke's eyes went cold and hard as ice. Sera yelped as she froze solid from the waist down, wriggling to try to free herself. Adele bolted to her feet as Hawke grabbed Sera by the chin. 

"Listen to me well, you little welp. Anders was sick, and eventually the disease caught up to him so subtly none of us could see it. That is all there is to say on the matter. So if you know what is good for you, you will leave it at that." Hawke let go of Sera and stormed off to her horse, mounting and taking off toward Skyhold at a full gallop. The ice surrounding Sera shattered, and she fell to the ground, shivering violently. 

"Piss, I was just askin-" 

"Sera, you owe Hawke one hell of an apology." Adele said, picking Sera up and setting her on her horse before helping Solas pack up lunch. There was no way they would catch up to Hawke at this point, but they could at least not get lost too far behind. Adele spent the rest of the trip cussing Sera's poor sense. 

Adele had read Varric's book early on, and had known Hawke's story in Kirkwall had ended in unbelievable tragedy. That her lover had a spirit of Justice possessing him, and had eventually succumbed to it, which caused him to plant a bomb in the Chantry. Hawke had been forced to end his life, and Adele could only begin to imagine the agony that entailed. 

They made it to the gates of Skyhold late the next morning, and as they rode through the gates Adele spotted her advisors standing near the gate, waiting on them. She pulled up just short of them, taking in a brief glance of their grim faces. 

"What is it?" Adele asked, nearly knocking into Cullen as she dismounted, who had moved to help her off her horse. "What happened?" 

"Hawke arrived just before you did." Cullen said as Leliana dashed off to the courtyard, pursuing one of her agents. "And her entrance wasn't exactly quiet. All of Skyhold knows she's here now. Including Cassandra." 

"Cullen," Adele grabbed the front of his chestplate, blood turning to ice in her veins. "Where is Varric?" 

A loud yell echoed from the courtyard, and Adele released Cullen and sprinted in that direction, riding cloak snapping behind her. She could hear Cullen behind her. She saw Cassandra bearing down on Varric, sword drawn, screaming about betraying the Inquisition. Varric yelling back his defense, or perhaps some choice expletives, reaching for Bianca. Hawke storming between them , wicked staff drawn, most definately screaming expletives. Then Cassandra raised her sword, and lightening crackled around Hawke, and at that moment Adele made it between them, summoning her barrier with a roar of "ENOUGH."

The barrier exploded outward, sending Hawke and Cassandra flying and keeping Varric protected beneath her. Her left hand crackled and spat green flame, and her entire world lit green around her. She saw Cullen detain Cassandra while Bull grabbed a hold of Hawke. She let the barrier slowly drop and reigned in her mana as not to create an ambient cloud. 

"What is done is done." She said forcefully, so that the entire courtyard could hear. A small crowd had gathered at the commotion. "There is no going back. We must put aside our differences for the sake of defeating Corypheus. Hawke is our ally, Cassandra." She turned to the glaring seeker in Cullen's arms. "As is Varric. You will put aside your personal differences and work together. Is that clear?" 

Cassandra snarled an affirmative and shoved Cullen away, stalking toward the armory. The crowd parted before her like a rolling wave. Adele turned to them. 

"That's enough gawking. Back to your duties, all of you." Thr crowd dispersed, murmuring amongst each other. Bull released Hawke, who immediately rushed Varric and swept him up in a massive hug. Adele turned to Cullen, who shook his head and approached her. 

"Now that all the excitement is over," he said, gesturing away from the pair. The two of them walked toward the throne room, Josephine hurrying behind them and furiously scratching on her clipboard. "We've examined your findings from Crestwood and put together a plan of action. We'll meet in the war room once you've gathered yourself." 

"Thank you, Cullen." 

"Another thing." Josephine said as they came to a halt in front of the door to the war room. "The Arcanist, Dagna, has requested to meet with you on some designs for your team's armor." 

"I will pay her a visit tomorrow morning." Adele rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache forming as Leliana drew up to their little gaggle. "Is there anything else?" 

"No, Lady Trevelyan." 

"Very well, I'll see you all in a short while." And with that, Adele excused herself, hurrying through the door to her quarters. She shut it behind her with a sigh, head falling back to lean against the mahogany. Her left hand was twinging, potentially warning of another attack, and she fished the pouch of herbs Solas had prepared for her from her bag as she hurried up the steps. She flung her bag on the ground as she entered her room proper, rolling the herbs. With a flip of her hand she filled her tub with ice, then set a cloud of ambient fire magic around the tub to begin heating the ice while she rolled the herbs. Sealing the roll, she placed it on the edge of the wash basin while she unbuckled her equipment belt and stripped out of her worn robes. Once she was completely nude she focused more of her energy into melting the cube of ice while lighting the roll of herbs in her mouth. She inhaled deeply, heart racing with every pulse of the anchor, fighting a cough as the herbs made their way into her lungs. Another sharp pulse from her hand had her crying out in pain, and she dropped the joint, knees buckling. 

The pulses came faster as she struggled to move, mouth open in a soundless wail. The pain was stealing the breath from her lungs, sapping the energy from her limbs. She thought desperately of Dorian, hoping that in some way he would sense her desperation and come for her. 

"You need them." Adele looked up to see Cole standing above her, bathed in green light, a look of agony on his face. She nodded, for it was all she could do, and he disappeared, hopefully off to find Dorian and Solas. 

Another pulse, a massive one, rent through her body, and a scream tore itself from her throat, an ungodly, demonic sound. The room was bathed in swirling green light, sickly and stifling, and her worn body trembled as she heard her door burst open below, male voices shouting. She slumped to the floor, curled in on herself as the anchor pulsed, wild hair obscuring her face as footsteps approached, and gloved hands reached her, softened leather turning her. 

"Adele," the mellow tone was panicked, and her hair was brushed from her face. "Adele, can you hear me?" 

"Bring her to the bed." Another panicked voice called, and she was wrapped in soft cloth, fur brushing her cheeks, and lifted against a plated chest. The scent of elderflower and oakmoss cut through the scent of blood and sulfur overwhelming her senses, and she reached out with a shaking hand, grabbing the neck of the metal chestplate for strength. 

"Here, place her here." A more even tone, though still urgent, directed. She was lowered gently onto the bed, vision still obscured in swirling green. The gloved hand peeled hers from the metal chestplate and seemed to be moving away. Panicked, she grabbed the hand, clenching it tightly. It stilled, and she felt the person move back to her side. 

"Adele." A voice said in her ear. She could hear pots clinking somewhere, a hand brushing the hair from her face. "Adele, if you can hear me, open your eyes." 

They weren't open? As blinding as the light was she assumed they were. Feeling as though she were ripping them over sandpaper, she turned her head toward the voice and opened her eyes. There was Cullen, swathed in a haze of green, face a look of unabashed horror. He did not move to pull away, however, simply squeezing her hand. 

"Vishante Kaffas," Dorian moved into her field of vision, his own face a mask of horror. "Solas, we must hurry-" 

"Here." A pale, slender hand placed a bowl of smoking herbs next to her face. The green film across her visage receded, and she saw Cullen's face relax a little. Then the darkness crept in, and the pain began to recede, and Adele faded into unconsciousness, hand wrapped tightly around Cullen's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey uhhhhhh yeah. This is a thing I did.
> 
> (I honestly have no clue what to put here half the time.)
> 
> I hope everyone had a great weekend! Thank you for those who left Kudos on the last chapter!
> 
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Warm, gentle crackling eased her reentrance into the waking world, blinking sticky eyes into focus. She saw the vaulted ceilings of her quarters first, focusing on a single stone until it came in focus. Then, slowly, she reached out with her awareness, feeling spreading from her chest to her arms, to her legs, to her toes, to her hands- 

She stopped. There was a warmth there, a gentle pressure. She let her head fall to her right, lips parting slightly at the sight that awaited her. 

By her bedside sat Cullen, reclined in one of her desk chairs, fast asleep. He had discarded his armor, gloves, and arming doublet, head resting on his right arm, his left hand clasping hers. His face was lit from one side by the flickering firelight, broad chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. She gathered, by the low light, it was very late or very early in the morning. She squeezed his fingers gently, and he let out a long breath through his nose. A warmth blossomed in her chest, deep and profound. She felt her lips twist up into a smile as her eyes fluttered closed again, losing herself in the warmth and comfort of his presence. 

\----- 

When Adele awoke again, it was to the sound of arguing voices, though it seemed as thought they were attempting to be hushed. Daylight was streaming through her balcony windows, the rest of the curtains pulled. She flexed her right hand, and instead of finding Cullen's warm palm covering hers, she grasped empty air. She turned her head to see the office chair he had been reclining in empty, no trace of him in sight. 

"I believe you have done enough, Serah." Dorian was saying, acidic on the formality. 

"Be that as it may," a lilting tone said, cold anger audible. "I should like to see her, extend my apologies." 

"She is resting, Hawke." Dorian snapped, voice rising. She could see the two of them standing on the stairwell, arms crossed in mirrored poses. She could see Hawke's face pulled in a derisive sneer. "And she will continue to do so until-" 

"Until I bloody well decide to get up and receive visitors, Dorian." Adele said, forcing her voice through rough vocal cords. Their heads snapped toward her, and she struggled to sit up as Dorian rushed to her bedside, Hawke close behind. 

"Easy there,"Dorian said, pushing pillows behind her back. Hawke was pouring a glass of water from a pitcher on the desk. 

"Oh cluck off, mother hen, I'm embarrassed enough as it is." Adele patted Dorian's cheek and accepted the glass of water from Hawke, chugging it down like it was her last. 

"I shall send for Solas." Dorian said, squeezing her hand before standing. "I would imagine you have questions and I'd like for us both to be present." 

He exited with a curt nod at Hawke, who grabbed the pitcher from the desk and sat in Cullen's vacant seat. She plucked the empty glass from Adele's hand and refilled it. 

"You really have no concept of manners, do you?" Adele croaked, a laugh belying the severity of her words. 

"Of course not." Hawke drawled, handing her back the cup with a mock stern look. "Slower this time." 

"Yes mother." Hawke rolled her eyes as she sipped her water, coughing. She leaned back in the chair, head resting against the back, and as the light hit her noble features Adele saw that her face was free of makeup, eyes sunken in and pallor evident. She had clearly not slept. 

"I've apologized to Sera." Hawke said suddenly, not opening her eyes. "I should not have behaved like the rabid Ferelden savage these people believe me to be." 

"Quite frankly we could use a little more rabid ferelden savagry around here." Adele said, placing her empty glass on the bedside table. "Though your behavior, as it were, was anything but. I usually prefer a bit less violence, but Sera is one that only responds to grand gestures." She reached out and took Hawke's hand, and the other woman jumped, fixing those piercing eyes on her. But she did not remove her hand from Adele's. "I am so sorry that my charge has brought such painful memories to light. I can assure you, it won't happen again." 

Hawke watched her for a moment, searching her face. Then she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, gaze drifting to the floor. 

"You have read Varric's book, so you know that he tends to embellish." Adele watched the other woman's eyes mist over, escaping to sometime far beyond. "But the one thing he got right was my love for Anders. I remember it not being a true attraction at first. He used to get so flustered when I flirted with him, and I remember enjoying making him turn all sorts of shades of red." The corner of her mouth twitched upward at this, and the lines around her eyes softened. "At some point, during the numerous healings and almost getting killed and traipsing around the underbelly of Kirkwall covered in unmentionable sludge, the flirtations became real. He became real. I remember him being one of the first things that felt real, after the blight. Since Lothering, since Bethany, everything felt hazy, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. But I remember a healing session, it was a particularly nasty cut on my leg that got all sorts of demon ichor in it. I remember his hands on me, the magic working as usual, then he just looked up at me and smiled. Like a cat that caught the mouse." 

Hawke was smiling now, eyes wet, and Adele turned on her side, stroking her friend's knuckles with her thumb. 

"And I asked him, 'what's so damned funny?' Because I was trying to ignore the way that smile just lit me up inside. And he looks at me, plain as can be, and says 'you've got shit in your slit.' And it was so terrible, so completely unfunny, but we were both so exhausted that we just sat in his clinic and laughed until we couldn't breathe. It felt like it took hours." Hawke began dabbing at her cheeks with her sleeves, laughing wetly. "And I knew then, even knowing who and what he was, that he was something special to me. He warned me, in the beginning, that it wouldn't end well. He told me he was a monster. And that didn't matter to me. Anders was never a monster to me. Not until Vengeance took over. He was a good man. But he was a good man who was very sick." 

She sighed, sitting back, tears pouring down her cheeks, a combination of mirth and grief. Adele just listened, squeezing her friend's hand gently in encouragement. It occurred to her that this may be the first time Hawke had opened up about Anders. That perhaps she had been holding this in since she left Kirkwall. 

"That man that I loved was gone. That man had been completely consumed by a Vengeance demon. While the being I killed had Anders' face, it wasn't him. It couldn't have been him." Hawke's head dipped, and her shoulders began to shake, a choked sob coming from behind the curtain of raven hair. Adele tugged on Hawke's arm, bringing her to her chest, and Hawke sobbed, clinging to her as she cried, face buried in Adele's shoulder. She nudged the other woman into bed with her and lay back against the pillows, stroking Hawke's hair as she cried and cried and cried, until eventually she cried herself asleep, slumped against Adele like a mabari pup. 

\----- 

Solas's prognosis and instructions were simple: A roll of the herbal blend inhaled with a cup of her mother's tea at night would be enough to stave off the degradation of the mark until Corypheus could be stopped and they could turn their attentions to removing the anchor. It would weaken her connection to the fade slightly, but it was better than being consumed by the thing on her hand before they could close the rifts. 

Three days later found her sitting in Dorian's library window, reading a selection of books he had picked out for her on Tevinter lore. They had been hoping to find something on Corypheus' origins, to corroborate his story. So far, they had come up with very little, but Adele was enjoying the histories nonetheless. Dorian had stepped out to fetch a pot of tea, claiming tired eyes, but Adele knew he was really going to watch Bull, Cass, and Blackwall train. The man was shameless. 

"Inquisitor." Adele looked up to see Cullen standing in the entrance to the alcove, hands resting on the hilt of his sword. He was looking at her with an air of cool professionalism, spine ramrod straight, looking every bit the Commander of armies he was. 

"Cullen!" She sent him a warm smile and gestured to a spare chair Dorian had drawn up to hold more books. "Sit and join me, Dorian will be back shortly with tea." 

"No, ah, thank you, Inquisitor, but Josephine sent me to find you, she has something she wishes to discuss with us." Cullen's tone was aloof and cool, and a tendril of apprehension crept into her stomach. 

"Are you alright, Cullen?" 

"Yes, Inquisitor, I am quite well." Cullen gestured to the staircase. Adele closed her book and penned a quick note to Dorian, feeling an uncomfortable tension forming between her and the Commander. She stood and donned her shawl, pulling her hood up over her loose brown curls, and led Cullen down the stairs. 

She hadn't seen Cullen since she had awoken with her hand in his three nights ago. He hadn't visited, sending his page with important documents and staying in his office or with the troops for meals. Adele had chalked it up to preparing security for an upcoming dignitary visit. But this new aloof nature had her wondering if she had done something to offend him. 

"How is your hand?" His tone was one of polite interest, and she realized she had been massaging her left palm, as she had taken to doing absent-mindedly when she was lost in thought or anxious. 

"Much better, thank you." She said, glancing sideways at him. He hadn't looked at her, not that she could tell, anyways, and as they descended the stairs into Solas's rotunda Adele gave up trying to catch his eye. 

The elf in question was atop his scaffolding, applying layers of paint and plaster to the rotunda walls. On her first day out of her quarters she had come to visit him, only to end up reclined on his settee with a blanket, gazing at the murals he had finished in awe. They were clearly an elven artwork, the likes of which Adele had never seen in her twenty six years, and she considered herself an art enthusiast, never missing a gallery. She was the subject, Solas had said with an oddly mischievous smile, or at least her good works were. 

She cast Solas a wave as they passed, and he returned it, giving her a toothy grin. She followed Cullen into the great hall, giving Varric an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder as she passed, and nodding down the chorus of discordant "your worship's" that echoed through the hall as she entered. She was struggling to keep up with Cullen's long strides in her heeled feet, but she managed to make it look as though she wasn't trying, holding her air of control until she made it to Josephine's foyer. Once Cullen closed the door behind him, she grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. 

"Cullen, something is wrong, I can tell. Please, if I have done anything to offend-" 

He turned to face her then, and for a brief moment his mask dropped, and she was stunned speechless by the look of intensity on his face. He very clearly hadn't slept in days, his eyes sunken into his face, deep gouges running along his forhead, his normally clean-shaven face presenting a five o'clock shadow. His skin had a pallor to it, and his eyes, previously their calm and controlled amber, were now flaming gold. He moved toward her, head inclined slightly, and Adele's breath caught in her throat, head tipping back. 

Then he seemed to catch himself, leaning back, and the mask slipped back into place, the Commander returning. He gave her a forced smile and said, in a gruff tone: 

"You have done nothing to offend me, however I feel as if it would be prudent for you to address me as Commander Rutherford from now on." 

Adele reeled back like she'd been slapped, heart dropping into her stomach. All she could do was nod dumbly, confusion and heartache warring for space in her chest. She quickly slid her mask of Inquisitor into place and proceeded ahead of him to the war room, clutching her left hand to her chest and steeling her resolve for the meeting to come. Cullen followed behind her, footsteps an echo of her pounding heart. Had she turned around, she would have seen the brief look of sheer self hatred and misery that crossed the Commander's features. But she didn't, and therefore the heartache she felt was spelt plainly on his features, but remained a mystery to those around her. 

"Ah, there you are!" Josephine looked up from her clipboard and smiled broadly at them. "I apologize for the interruption, this shouldn't take long." 

"It is no trouble, Josephine." Vivienne and Leliana, who were speaking in low tones at the other end of the table, turned to join the conversation. 

"I'm glad to see you approve of your new wardrobe, my dear." Vivienne said, casting an approving eye over Adele's velvet-clad form. Josephine, who had thought Adele ought to have more formal attire to wear while politicians visited, had taken her measurements from her armor requisition and ordered her a selection of dresses while she was in Crestwood. Truly, Adele only liked her current gown, which was a simple velvet in a deep shade of violet that reached her ankles and came with a matching hooded shawl, but she would never admit that to Josie, who had clearly worked very hard on it. 

"I am hoping to prepare the upper echelons of the Inquisition for the upcoming ball in Orlais. Every evening until we leave for Orlais you and your inner circle will be undergoing etiquette classes, including learning to dance." 

Adele let out a bark of laughter and Vivienne sent her a scathing look. "I'm sorry, are you telling me I'm going to have to teach Sera proper etiquette?" 

Josephine grimaced. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Though I will be doing most of the teaching. You just need to keep her present." 

"You say that like it's possible." 

"Anywho, please inform your team that we will be beginning tomorrow evening." Josephine sighed, seeming to be of the same mindset as Adele. Adele just hoped she wouldn't try to squeeze Sera into a dress. 

Cullen cleared his throat. "If you have no further need of me..." 

"Actually, Commander, we do." Leliana said, silver eyes flashing. "You will also be required to attend these lessons, so please be sure to be present." 

She heard Cullen sigh, keeping her gaze determinedly on the papers in front of her detailing correct Orlesian etiquette and style. "Of course, sister Nightengale." 

"Dismissed, Commander." Adele said, not looking up from her paperwork. With no hesitation Cullen turned on his heel and left the throne room, oak door shutting with a resounding bang. 

"Is it just me, or does the Commander seem ill?" Vivienne said, false concern lacing her words. Adele's eyes cut to her. 

"Perhaps." Adele said, throat growing tight. She saw Leliana and Josie exchange a look, and turned her attention on them, steering the conversation away from the Commander. "Will we be including Hawke?" 

\---- 

Heart pounding, Hawke landed in a roll and skid to a stop on one knee, spectral dual blades flashing in each had. She could feel a wicked grin splitting her face, tendrils of hair escaping her top knot and sticking to her forhead. The Bull roared with laughter, pounding his broad chest with his dual axes and setting his stance to charge. 

"Let's go, human!" He roared, axes clashing together. "You call that a rush?" 

Hawke gathered her mana and took off at a sprint, feet pounding the grass, and as Bull charged she lept, raising her dual blades above her head and bringing them down on on Bull's axes. He blocked just the way Hawke wanted, and as he pushed her blades up she tucked her body into a roll, using the momentum to launch herself over him, grabbing his horns as she went. Bull fell with an earth-shaking thud, and Hawke rolled to the side, popping up onto her feet, breathing heavily as she paced around her prey. 

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about." Bull groaned, sitting up. Hawke's dual-blades disappeared as she offered her hand, digging her heels into the ground as Bull pulled himself to his feet. The Qunari grunted, cracking his neck. "You're a goddamned force of nature, Hawke." 

"Likewise, Bull." She grinned at him, stretching her arms up. "Drinks later?" 

"Wouldn't miss it." Bull gave her a lopsided grin and trudged away toward the chargers' quarters. Hawke scooped her overshirt off the ground and pulled it over her head, trudging on gloriously sore legs to the stairwell that led to the battlements. She had been aching for a good training session since their return from Crestwood. Bull had been most obliging, and certainly was skilled enough to give her a run for her money. Over the past few days they'd formed a fast friendship, and Hawke had to admit she was happy to have someone else to pester besides Adele and Varric. 

"Hawke!" She groaned inwardly and turned around, seeing one of few people she had most wanted to avoid jogging toward her. 

"Ser Cullen." She smirked lazily, leaning against the wall. "Or is it Commander now?" 

Cullen, who looked like he was already regretting this conversation, drew to a stop a respectable distance before her. "I wanted to make you an offer." 

"I'm afraid I've sworn off marriage, Commander, otherwise I'd be quite flattered." 

"W-what? No." Cullen coughed, turning pink in the neck. Hawke's smirk grew into a grin. Just like old times. "I have a considerable number of new mage recruits who have expressed an interest in learning to fight. I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me train them." 

Oh. That wasn't what Hawke was expecting. 

"I'm not a very patient teacher, Commander." 

"It would be an enormous help, I'm not very experienced in Mage tactics from that side, and your fighting style has proved to be very effective." Cullen's hands were fidgeting on his sword. 

"What does Adele have to say about this?" 

"Her worship thinks it's a good idea." Hawke's eyes narrowed, and she searched his face for any hint of insincerity. She noticed immediately that he looked ill, cheeks a little more hollow than they had been when they had left for Crestwood. 

"'Her worship'? You don't have to use her honorifics with me, Cullen, I see how you two look at each other." 

"There's nothing between me and the Inquisitor, Hawke." Cullen rubbed the center of his forhead with his thumb. "Will you help or not?" 

Hawke sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. "Very well, Commander, I will be happy to join your merry little band. At least for now, until you can build up a hierarchy for the mages, or work them into your ranks." She looked down at her feet, kicking a pebble off the bottom step. "I don't know how long I'll be around." 

"Understood." Cullen inclined his head to her. "Good day, Hawke. And thank you." He turned on his heel and began walking away before Hawke called out, "Commander." 

He turned back to her, and with a start Hawke realized that this was not the same young templar she had met in the Gallows all those years ago. There was something in his eyes, something older and wiser, a calm countenance that had replaced the rampant xenophobia she had come to expect from him. She stood straight and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Get some rest." 

Cullen looked uncomfortable before nodding and turning away, heading back toward his office. Hawke watched him go, chewing her cheek, before she turned and climbed the stairs, skirting the battlements until she came across the garden view room Adele had bequeathed her. 

\----- 

He captured her lips in his, drinking in the quiet moan that erupted from her throat. Her hands slid down his chest, soft and slow, and began pushing him back to the bed. He felt his knees hit the edge and sat down, gathering her into his lap. Her soft brown curls floated around them like a cloud, the scent of dawn lotus overwhelming his senses. She nipped at his lip and pushed his chest so he was lying back, following his mouth, bare breasts pressed flushed against his chest. He fisted his fingers in her hair, clasping her hip as he pulled her head back, kissing down her neck to her pulse point and sucking, pulling a moan from her. He took advantage of her lack of guard, flipping them so he was on top and hooking her leg over his hip. He lined himself up with her wet heat, groaning as her arousal soaked the head of his cock. In one swift motion he slid inside her, and she cried out his name, the sound making his cock jump within her. 

"Your desire is so predictable, love." The sultry, silky voice said, tendrils of purple smoke flowing into his field of vision. He tried to freeze, cold horror filling his body, but she flipped them, and suddenly his arms were pinned above his head by the purple tendrils. As Adele rode him he strained, watching in horror as her eyes met his, and were not their usual spring green but two glowing purple orbs. He watched her hands, which had been steadying herself on his stomach, morph into long, razor sharp claws. 

"I do enjoy this form." The demon moaned, trailing a razor sharp claw down his stomach. "So young, so lush. I cannot wait to possess her body in the waking, too." 

"You leave her be." He growled, struggling against the bonds. The demon smirked, the expression horridly familiar on Adele's face, and ran a claw up to her throat. His screams of "no!" Rang hollow as the demon slowly dragged the claw across Adele's neck, scarlet blood fountaining forth and coating their joined bodies... 

Cullen woke with a yell, chest coated in sweat, breath coming in sharp gasps. He scrambled out of bed and down the ladder, bursting out of his office and taking off at a sprint down the battlements, the desire demon's high laughter and Adele's death gurgle ringing in his ears. He ran until he made it to the garden, slumping against the well and taking sharp, ragged breaths. He focused on the feel of the stone well at his back, the scent of the newly planted flowers and freshly trimmed hedges, the breeze cooling his burning skin. 

The dreams were getting worse, as were the symptoms. The last week and a half every waking moment was a headache, every meal followed by a session of vomiting, every training session resulting in joint pain of the worst degree. He could barely wield a sword anymore, let alone a shield, and he could feel himself getting weaker by the hour. 

This is your penance. He thought, his breathing slowing as he sank into a well of self hatred. Should this kill you, it will be what you deserve. What you allowed to happen to those people, what you've done to Adele, it would only be fitting. 

"Commander?" Cullen's head snapped up, horrified to see Dorian standing before him, puzzled expression twisting his mustachioed face. 

"Dorian." Cullen ran a shaking hand through his hair, a curl falling to his forehead. "Forgive me, I was out for a run and-" 

"Oh blast it all, man." Dorian knelt next to him and turned his face left and right, examining him in the light of the garden lanterns. "Do not lie. You look like you've been bled dry." 

Cullen leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees and hanging his head between them. His entire body was shaking, sweat pouring down his bare chest and back. "It's the dreams again." He said hoarsely. "They're getting worse." 

"What about the tea Adele gave you? Is it not working?" Dorian's eyes narrowed as Cullen shook his head. "You haven't been drinking it, have you?" 

"Dorian-" 

"Why do you insist on allowing yourself to suffer?" Dorian said hotly, standing and pacing in front of him. "Who could possibly benefit from that arrangement?" 

"It is what I deserve." Cullen said, pressing a thumb between his eyebrows to try and stem the incoming migraine. 

"For what? Andraste's plaideweave knickers, Rutherford, you're the Commander of an Army of the faithful-" 

"And the Maker has seen fit to see me suffer for my crimes." Cullen bit out, temples pounding. He didn't know why he was unloading onto this man, but a dam had broken, and it was pouring out like water. 

"What crimes, man?!" Dorian yelled, kneeling in front of him. "What on earth have you done-" 

"I have allowed mages under my protection to suffer and die without questioning orders!" Cullen bellowed, uncaring if he woke half of Skyhold. "I have allowed atrocities of the most heinous kind to occur under my watch and turned a blind eye. Because I thought it was necessary, because I thought it was right. I believed, for so maker-damned long, that mages were a blight upon this land, a pestilence that needed to be destroyed. And it took ten years of watching Hawke clean up Kirkwall and fighting for what was right for me to realize that not all mages were maleficar waiting to happen. I am a monster, and I will spend the rest of the time I have, no matter how short, making up for that fact." 

Cullen leaned his head back against the well, spent. Dorian remained silent for a moment, pondering. "Cullen, when was the last time you took lyrium? Templars are all reliant on it, no?" 

Cullen lifted his head and fixed Dorian with a burning stare. Dorian went white as a sheet. "How long has it been, Cullen?" 

"Nearly a year." He could feel his veins straining, the song inside him calling, getting louder with every heartbeat. 

"Vishante Kaffas." Dorian leaned back on his heels, tugging on his mustache. "So that is why you have been pushing her away. You think you have little time left." 

"I would think you'd be happy. You yourself forbade me from laying a hand on her." 

"I did." Dorian sighed, pulling out a flask and taking a long swig. "I saw how she reached for you, however, during her attack, and how your presence helped. How Cole went to you when she needed help. Not me, not Solas, you. As unnerving as the young man can be, he's a good indicator of how someone feels and who can be trusted." 

"I still hurt her, Dorian. I could have killed her." 

"She can take care of herself." Dorian sighed, pressing his hand into his eyes. "I should not have interfered on her behalf. I was scared for her and my temper got the better of me." 

Cullen was silent, staring at a dawn lotus plant that happened to be sitting in his direct line of vision. Dorian stood, brushing his hands off on his pants, and fixed Cullen with a stern gaze. 

"So, here is what we'll do. I'm going to drag your insolent carcass back to your quarters and we're going to get you some tea, then you are going to sleep. And tomorrow we will discuss further how to handle your withdrawal. You," he held up a hand to silence Cullen's protest. "Need to be at the top of your form. For the Inquisition, for the army that looks to you for guidance." His eyebrows softened. "For her." 

Cullen glared at Dorian, who stubbornly returned it, and sighed, nodding. Dorian reached a hand out to help Cullen up, pulling it around his shoulders to brace him as the man staggered. They ambled out of the garden, unaware that there was another dark haired mage standing in the shadows of the balcony, watching them with concern in her piercing blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I suppose you have questions" eh heh, heh...
> 
> Anyways...
> 
> I'm a decade late for my dragon age phase so bear with me. I'm playing DAII again and just keep falling in love with Isabela (which I know is going to come back to bite me, but honestly which romance doesn't?) So I'm sure she's going to earn a cameo here in a bit. 
> 
> Also a huge Austenite and have been reading the book series behind "Bridgerton" so that's been bleeding over alot.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos so far! Feedback is deeply appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

Adele sat at the head of the table in the Great Hall, eyes scanning the length of the table. Nearly everyone was present and accounted for, even Cassandra, who was glaring daggers in Varric's general direction. Josephine sat at the opposite end of the table, speaking with Blackwall in hushed tones, a light blush on her face. Sera sat next to Blackwall, slumped in her chair with a sour scowl on her face, flicking peas at Vivienne's cleavage when she thought no one was looking. Bull was squeezed in between Sera and Dorian, cracking jokes and drinking heavily. Dorian sat at Adele's left, looking mildly uncomfortable and swirling his wine glass. The only unoccupied seat was to Adele's right, awaiting Cullen. 

Finally the door to the rotunda opened, and Cullen came nearly jogging through, armorless in his open arming doublet. He looked groggy, as though he'd just woken, and his hair was a mess of golden curls on his head. 

"My most sincere apologies, I appear to have overslept." 

"It is no trouble, Commander." Josephine said with a smile, gesturing to his place beside Adele. Adele kept her head down as he passed, cutting a piece of chicken off her plate. 

"Now that everyone is here..." Josephine launched into her lesson, discussing basic Orlesian and Ferelden conversational customs. Hawke, who was seated on the other side of Cullen, caught Adele's eye and rolled her own, stabbing a carrot with her fork. Adele noticed Cullen's hands shaking as he raised his water glass to his lips, and glanced at Dorian, who arched a brow. 

"Are you feeling alright, Commander?" Adele said quietly, folding her hands in her lap. Cullen looked down at her, forced smile on his lips. 

"I am, Inquisitor. Just some overexertion, nothing to worry about." 

"I see." Another glance at Dorian, who was watching Josie with a glassy-eyed stare, then back to Cullen. "Have you been drinking your tea?" 

"I had a cup earlier this afternoon. I think it worked a little too well." 

Adele felt a small smile grace her lips. "Well, hopefully you are able to rest this evening." 

Cullen nodded, and Adele turned her attention back to Josephine. The air was tense at their end of the table, Cullen's request and it's implications hanging like a curtain between them. Adele took a sip of her wine, sending up a prayer of thanks that Josie had pulled the good bottles. 

The lesson went on smoothly, with minimal interruptions, the only being Sera actually landing a pea in Vivienne's cleavage and Hawke accidentally shooting red wine out of her nose in response. Adele had to duck under the table, pretending to have dropped her napkin in order to hide her mirth. Even Cullen's stoic expression cracked, the two of them sharing a grin before he seemed to remember himself and hid behind a cough. Adele caught Dorian rolling his eyes. 

They moved into the center of the room for the Orlesian waltz, a lively string tune striking up. The group was organized into two lines by Josephine and Leliana, and Adele found herself standing across from Cullen, cursing the two women inwardly. The Commander inclined his head to her, and the music began in earnest, the steps simple and very similar to the Ferelden waltz Adele had learned as a girl. 

"Truly, you are well?" She asked him as she took his offered hand. 

"Yes, better than I have been." He said, his tone polite and careful. "It turns out, sleep does wonders for the mind and body." 

"Learned that from a healer, did you?" The dance turned into a waltzing circle, the pair of them coming together. Adele tried to ignore the way his hand burned into her waist. 

"As it happens, the tea you gave me did the trick." He spun them around the dance floor, Adele catching wind of Josephine scolding Hawke and Bull, who were moving with ridiculous, exaggerated steps. Adele giggled as Bull lifted Hawke, who struck a pose with a confidence that was blatantly ridiculous for someone nearly ten feet up in the air. 

"I think Hawke is going to send Josie to an early grave." Adele said with a laugh, parting with Cullen to spin back into his embrace. The return was closer, an inch apart at the breast, his rushed exhale of breath fanning her face. Their eyes met as he spun them along, his hand drifting to the small of her back. Adele swallowed heavily and looked away, a lump forming in her throat. 

"That reminds me, Hawke agreed to help me train the new mages." Cullen said, turning her so they we both facing outward, hand moving back to her waist. "Tomorrow is her first day on the job. If you'd like to join before you leave for the Storm Coast..." 

"Of course." She stepped out and spun back into his arms, feeling the burning trail of his fingers moving up her back. "I would be happy to lend my expertise as well." 

"We would all welcome it." His voice had gone low, eyes searching her face. The hand on her back tightened slightly, and her heart lept in her chest, a betraying tendril of hope spawning there. 

"Cullen..." she saw his jaw tighten, eyes closing. "If there is anything I can do-" 

"You have done everything for me." He said suddenly, eyes opening and burning into hers. Her breath caught. "You have gotten me through more than you know. Your kindness and grace has been a guiding light. I dare not ask more." 

"Then why-" the music came to an end and they parted, Cullen bowing deeply to her, his mask sliding back in place. Adele collected herself, turning to the orchestra to applaud them, and when she turned back to speak to Cullen he was gone, the burning trail of his fingers against her back the only evidence of his presence. 

\---- 

Adele woke the next morning and donned her training garb, light leather armor over a white tank top and breeches, piled her hair on top of her head, and scribbled a quick note to her page, Stephen, about what needed to be done over the course of the morning to prepare for the Storm Coast. They had received numerous reports of darkspawn sightings, odd as the area had been cleared of rifts for quite some time, and Adele wanted to head it off herself, not wanting to risk a blight amongst the ranks. 

Not to mention, it would give her much needed time away. 

She made her way down to the training yard, where Hawke was already awake and disassembling a training dummy with her staff blade. The other woman was armorless in similar clothes to Adele, her boots tossed to the side and bare feet making tracks in the dewy grass. 

"How on earth are you barefoot?" Adele asked, leaning against the well. "It's absolutely freezing." 

"Helps me wake up." Hawke grunted as she swung upward with the wicked blade, carving the dummy in half. She spun her staff and strapped it against her back, turning to Adele. Not for the first time, Adele marveled in her well-muscled form. The woman was incredibly strong. 

"See something you like, Sweetheart?" Hawke grinned at her, sitting down next to her on the well and pulling her socks and boots on. 

"More trying to decide how you'd look as a throw rug." 

"Now that would be a sight." Hawke's grin widened as she pulled her staff off her back, taking a rag to the blade. The two women sat together in companionable silence, basking in the glow of the morning. 

"So, the Commander told you I accepted his offer? I assume that's why you're here." Hawke said, setting her staff to the side. 

"Yes, and I think it's a great idea." Adele said, standing and settling into a deep squat, stretching her tight hips. Hawke lay back on the brick well, arms folding behind her head. 

"The two of you were certainly... close, last night." Adele could hear the question in Hawke's voice and groaned. 

"Honestly, Hawke, I don't know if there's anything to it." She sat back on the ground and leaned forward, reaching for her toes. "I care for him. More than I should, or is appropriate. But one moment he looks at me like he wants nothing more than to devour me, the other he's shutting me out and pushing me away, telling me to call him by his title instead of his name. Perhaps because I'm a mage, or the anchor is magic too unknown, I honestly don't know." 

Hawke sat quietly for a moment. "I've known the Commander for years, Adele. I've watched him grow from an anti mage zealot to defending me from Meredith. And further still, to someone who cares enough about mages to see they do not go into battle unprepared. I don't claim to know his mind, but I will say he is a changed man from the one I knew a decade ago." 

"Either way," Adele said, hopping to her feet. "He has asked for space. The only thing I can do now is give it to him." 

Hawke nodded, a look of sad nostalgia in her eyes as she gazed up at the clouds. Adele swung her arms in circles, warming up her body for the oncoming workout. She inhaled, reaching her arms up over her head and pressing her palms together, feeling her gloriously full pool of mana dance with the fresh breath of air. Then she threw herself forward on the exhale, sending a shard of ice forward and through the neck of the training dummy. The head rolled back and off the body, landing with a dull thud. 

"Impressive." Adele turned to see Cullen standing behind her, half smirk on his face. He was dressed in his own training attire, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, training sword strapped to his waist. His golden eyes were fixed on her, looking healthier still than he had last night. 

"Good morning, Commander." Adele said politely, turning back to the training dummies. Hawke sat up, cracking her neck and finishing off her shoe laces. "I trust you slept well?" 

"Yes, thank you." She heard his footsteps track around her. She pulled her spirit hilts off her belt and channeled her mana through them, manifesting two circular blades that hummed with golden light, arcing over her knuckles. She charged the dummy, then at the last second flattened and slid on her knees behind it, slicing up it's back one blade after yhr other. It fell to pieces, and Adele reabsorbed her mana, hooking the deactivated hilts to her belt. 

"I think I've still got it." She said to Hawke, who grinned at her. She turned back to Cullen, who was watching her with arms crossed over his chest, amber eyes intense on her face. 

"I'm concerned that the mages will not be able to defend themselves at close range. I'm hoping you can help with that." 

"Basic hand to hand sounds well within your capabilities, Commander." Hawke drawled. Adele shot her a look. 

"Their capabilities could be utilized to give them an upper hand, as the both of you have demonstrated." Cullen reached up to rub the back of his neck. "I would see that put to use." 

"We understand, Commander." Adele said. "I think it's a excellent idea." 

Cullen shot her a grateful smile. "I would like to go over forms with you, Hawke. Inquisitor, if you have the time-" 

"My morning is blocked out for this." Adele said, sitting down next to Hawke. "I'm all yours." 

The rest of the morning went by smoothly. The group of recruits was small, five mages, three women and two men. Adele watched as Hawke dressed them all down, determining each individual's strengths and weaknesses. She began getting into the basics of hand to hand combat. One recruit, a shorter, well muscled man with a shock of deep red hair cut short to his head seemed to be already fairly proficient in hand to hand combat. 

"Do you have former training, messere...?" Hawke stepped in front of him, eyeing him. 

"Owen, ma'am. Owen de Launceston. Ran with the Carta for a while out of Ostwick." The young man swallowed thickly as Hawke's eyes narrowed. "I've been an apostate all my life, running from the Chantry. The Coterie took me in when I was a boy, and once the mages rebelled I left to join them." 

"No one just leaves the Coterie." Cullen said, exchanging a look with Hawke. 

"Truth be told, I ran. Hadn't liked the way things were going for years." 

"Understood." Hawke nodded to the young man, the gestured to the training dummy. "Run it again." 

Adele watched from her perch on the well as the recruits practiced. To her surprise, Cullen ambled over and sat down next to her, running a hand through his hair. The morning's exertions had tossed it into wild golden curls. 

"You're doing good work here, Commander." She said, watching as one of the women, a young blonde elf by the name of Sadie, took Owen down with the swipe of a long, slender leg. 

"Thank you." He gave her a small smile. Adele sat back on her hands, sighing in contentment as the breeze kissed her skin and ran through her dark hair, which she had undone and lay long and heavy down her back. She closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun, breathing deep the scent of approaching Spring. 

"I love mornings like this." She said, opening her eyes to see him watching her, something unfamiliar in his amber eyes. "They remind me of when I was a little girl. I used to chase my brothers around the garden, demanding they let me play with them. They always did, but they liked to make a game out of it." She got lost for a moment, picturing young Antony and Arlo, the younger two years her senior, jumping over shrubs and bushes, cackling madly. 

"You have siblings?" He asked, breaking her from her reverie. "I know you mentioned a brother who was a templar." 

"Antony, the oldest." She remembered how grown he looked in his plate mail. His noble status had secured him a place in the Chantry, not a circle, though he had confessed it wasn't what he wanted. He had joined the templar order to help reform the circles from the ground up, knowing how Adele and Arielle were raised. He didn't get his wish, however, before the rebellion. 

"I believe I've heard the name Antony Trevelyan before, but only in passing." Cullen said, contemplating. "What of your other siblings?" 

"Arlo, two years my senior. Wicked with a bow. Can hit a squirrel through the eye at a hundred paces." Adele smiled. "Now to inherit the Trevelyan Bannorn, I suppose. If Antony doesn't want it." 

"Do you not?" Adele looked at him and let out a laugh. 

"After all this, if there is even an after, I will be retiring to a cabin in the woods far, far away from any responsibility." 

"I suppose that's fair." Cullen said, taking a swig from his canteen. "If you can bring yourself not to work on something that long." 

"You know very well I can't." She sighed as he chuckled to himself, eyes pulling up at the corners in a way that made him look years younger. "But a girl can dream." 

"Indeed." He watched Sadie take down Owen again and grinned. "That one is stronger than she looks." 

"That she is." She nodded to the girl, whose face lit up with a brilliant smile. "Do you have siblings, Commander?" 

"Three. I'm the second of four." His eyes grew distant. "Mia is the oldest, then Branson, and then Rosalie." 

"Did the others go into the chantry?" 

"No, they remained in Honnleath. My parents passed during the blight and they fled to South Reach, where they have a good little farm going. Mia writes often, mostly to berate me for not writing." His mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. "She's always been good at tracking me down." 

"Tracking you down?" Adele's brow drew together. "She didn't know where you were?" 

"I may have neglected to tell her when I was transferred to Kirkwall." His tone was sheepish. "I wasn't in the best place. Two years later I received an angry letter about my disappearance." 

"I can't say I wouldn't have done the same." Adele drew her legs up, crossing them beneath her. "My brother wrote weekly when he was away, and I've written weekly since I got to Haven. We're very close." 

"She managed to track me here. Luckily the nation is abuzz with news of the Inquisition, or I probably would have received another very angry letter." 

"It sounds like they love you very much." Adele said, watching him with her head cocked to the side. 

"And I them. They've been a stabilizing force in my life for a very long time. I don't tell them enough." 

"Inquisitor!" Adele looked over to see Stephen approaching, harried look on his face. "If you are to meet with Lady Josephine and Comtess Elora you must return to your room now!" 

"Yes, Stephen." Adele sighed and stood, brushing her hands off on her pants. She turned back to Cullen, whose smile had disappeared as his own page came into view. 

"I'll see you this evening, Commander?" Adele said. 

"Yes, Inquisitor." 

\---- 

The trip to the Storm Coast was miserable, a final winter blizzard battering them as they made their way out if the mountains. They kept moving until the snow faded into grass and practically fell from their horses, shivering and coughing. Adele and Solas built up a fire, while Blackwall and Sera went hunting for game. In a few hours the four of them were stripped of their wet armor and clothing, sat in their smallclothes and wrapped in the few dry blankets they could find. Sera's tiny frame was shivering uncontrollably, despite her blanket, and Blackwall wrapped his around her shoulders, a shine of fatherly affection in his eyes. Solas and Adele exchanged a small smile before finishing the warming brew stewing over the fire. 

They met with further problems near Crestwood, a small group of bandits attempting to ambush them. One leapt off the cliff above them and landed on Adele's horse behind her, wrapping an arm around her neck and attempting to drag her off. She summoned a handful of flame and clapped her palm around the back of his neck, his screams nearly bursting her eardrums. Her horse reared and threw them both, and she landed in a roll backwards, grabbing her spirit hilts and bringing them to life. Sera had already put an arrow through the eye of her assailant, and another was rearing up behind her, sword raised. She spun, dragging her blades up their chest into a space in their neck armor. Blood fountained forth, and they fell to the ground with a gurgle. Adele cast a barrier around Blackwall, who was fighting off two bandits at once, then ran at one while Sera sent a volley of arrows over her head into Solas's assailant, dropping them. She saw Blackwall force one backward and cast an ice glyph, which they stepped into as she slit the throat of the other. She heard Solas yell and spun around, watching as he stumbled back, blood blooming on his shoulder, a bandit raising his dagger high. Adele manifested a javelin and launched it toward the bandit, taking off in a sprint as it impaled itself through their neck. Blackwall reached Solas first and finished off the final bandit, grabbing the mage as he fell. Adele got to him and grabbed one of her normal knives off her thigh, cutting through the leather and cloth of his robes. The skin around the cut was darkening rapidly, oozing a pink froth. Solas's skin was quickly paling, his eyes drifting back into his head. 

"Shit, it was poisoned." Adele whistled and her horse drew up next to her, huffing. She mounted and reached down to help Blackwall hoist Solas onto the saddle, the mage groaning feebly. Adele pulled some fresh elfroot leaves from her pack and shoved them into her mouth, chewing them into a paste and smearing it against the wound. Solas's head lolled back onfo her shoulder. 

"Ergh." Sera said, eyeing the paste. 

"Shut it and meet me at Caer Bronach." Adele said, spurring her horse into a gallop. She held onto the reigns with one hand and wrapped an arm around Solas's waist with the other, holding him steady and infusing his body with healing magic as they barreled toward Caer Bronach. 

"Hold on, my friend." She said in his ear as her horse galloped over the damp roads, heart thudding in time with the hoofbeats."Hold on just a little longer." 

\---- 

They made it to Caer Bronach in the knick of time, Adele's mana a pitiful drip in her stomach. The healers met her at the door to the massive fort, a group of guards hauling Solas down off her horse and into the hold. Adele dismounted and staggered, legs nearly giving out beneath her. 

"Hold, your worship." Charter caught her and straightened her, eyes searching her for injuries. "Did they get you too?" 

"No, Charter, I'm fine, I just drained my mana getting him here alive." Adele brushed herself off, breathing heavily. "I understand the healers will need time to work, will you let me know when they have news?" 

"Of course, your worship." Charter led her inside the keep and escorted her to the quarters she'd kept while working out of Crestwood, hurriedly being made up by the hold's keepers. 

"I'll have some food brought to your quarters, milady." Charter said as Adele sat heavily in the desk chair and began unstrapping her armor. "Leave all that by the door and we'll have it cleaned for you." 

"Thank you, Charter." Adele said, trying to calm her racing heart. "Allow me to cover the tabs at the tavern tonight." 

"Yes, your worship. Thank you." And with a nod the rogue exited, off to see to Solas. The headache she usually experienced with her mana low began creeping in, and she finished undressing with a groan, gathering a fresh pair of leggings and a tunic from the armoire. She pulled them on and collapsed into the bed, immediately falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to rotate the perspectives by chapter from now on.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos! As always feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke's world is turned upside down yet again, and she is forced to reevaluate her choices.

"Take it in, lads." Hawke called as they meandered up the road, her mages puffing behind her. "A walk in the woods does the mind good." 

"Where are we going, Serah?" Sienna called, her normally breathy voice even more so with exertion. 

"Wherever the wind takes us, Sienna." Hawke had realized early on that her little group of recruits had skill and strength, but very little in the way of endurance. So she had burst into their quarters just after sunrise, rousing them all with a God-awful rendition of "Nightengale's Eyes" and was dragging their half wakened carcasses up a mountain path to a peak just behind Skyhold's main fortress. The trek would take all morning, the cold snapping of the wind burning gloriously into Hawke's lungs. 

The rest of her little squad, it seemed, was not having as much of a good time. 

"Alright, here we are." They finally crested the peak and reached a flat, rocky plateau. Several pools of steaming water sat looking nearly untouched, mirrors reflecting the gauzy blue sky above. Her team sighed, moving to gather around the one of the pools. You could see straight down to the obsidian black bottom, just deep enough to sit in. 

"You've worked hard this last week." Hawke said, sitting on the warmed rock. "I wanted you all to know I'm proud of you. Consider this as a reward." 

"Thank you, Serah." Octavian, a tall, dark skinned young man, barely older than twenty, turned and bowed to her. The rest of her recruits followed suit, then hastily stripped down to their underthings and slipped into the pool, sighs of relaxation echoing off the cliffs. Hawke remained on watch, enjoying the sunshine on her face and the warm rock beneath her. Very rarely did she let her guard down, but today was an exception. It was a day for reflection and meditation, a day to let her mana and her body recharge. It was a necessary thing for everyone, but especially mages. 

She'd have to bring up the concept of a recharge day to Curly. 

She examined her charges, the corner of her mouth tilting up in amusement as she noticed they'd all crawled into the largest hotspring instead of spreading out across the multiple pools surrounding them. They were a surprisingly close knit group, the circle mages accepting Owen into their ranks without a second thought. There was Octavian, dark skinned and tall, his awkward length just now beginning to fill in. He was from Starkhaven, having escaped from his circle and running headlong into Sadie and Sienna, who had come from Ostwick. Sadie was a petite blonde elf, with large green eyes that reminded Hawke of Merrill. Sienna, on the other hand, was tall and willowy, skin bronzed and black ringlets tied on top of her head. They picked up Owen near Kirkwall, then finally joined the brunt of the mages at Redcliffe, where they met Daniel, who was from the circle in Ferelden. Daniel was the oldest of the group, around thirty, with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair. He had a quiet nature, but a cutting wit when he did open his mouth. He was also incredibly proficient with a bow. In truth, he reminded Hawke a bit of Sebastian. 

"Join us, Serah." He called now, beckoning her over. She smiled and held up a hand in polite refusal. 

"One of us must stand watch." 

"I could do that for you, if you like." A voice came from behind her, and her blood froze in her veins. She threw herself forward and spun, ripping her staff from her back. The recruits jumped up from the pool, scrambling to their respective staffs and spraying steaming water in every direction as the blade of Hawke's staff rested against the speaker's throat. 

"As jumpy as she is beautiful." Anders chuckled, hands raised in surrender. Hawke's heartbeat slammed in her ears, a high pitched whine joining the tumultuous cries of denial echoing in her head. 

"Who are you?" She spat over the lump in her throat. "What manner of demon are you?" 

"I am no demon, Lora." A rabid spike of anger shot through her at his gentle tone on her name. 

"I. Killed. You." She snarled, her voice a low growl. She heard tentative footsteps behind her and threw a hand out. "Get back to Skyhold." She snapped, and when her recruits hesitated, she whipped her head around and screeched "NOW." 

There was a scramble as her recruits hastily pulled their clothes on over their soaking underclothes and scattered into the brush, making their way down the mountain. Hawke kept her eyes on the apparition, her mana rising up to create an oppressive aura around her. 

"I don't know who you are," she growled, wanting to pluck this thing's eyes out of it's head for the look of tender sadness it was giving her. "Or who sent you. But by the Maker, when I find out-" 

"I know it's difficult to believe." The Anders apparition interrupted, taking a tentative step toward her. She pressed her blade harder into the skin of his neck and he hissed in pain, a small trickle of blood sliding down his throat. Hawke paused, watching as the blood trickled down beneath the nondescript black robes. 

It bled. No spirit bled. 

"How." Hawke whispered, her staff blade dropping to rest on his shoulder. Denial still thundered through her, a screaming mantra that was setting her very nerves aflame. Her hands began to shake in earnest. "I killed you. You are dead. I put my blade through your heart." 

"And in doing so, you freed me." 

"No." Hawke shook her head violently, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. The blood swipe curving around her left eye seemed to burn. 

"Justice gave his life to save me." Anders gently took the staff blade and slowly set in on the ground, moving as though she were a spooked animal. Hawke watched him like one, adrenaline pumping through her veins. He looked very much like he had before that night, honeyed eyes full of life and light, sharp jawline covered in fine stubble. The only differences were his blonde hair, grown long and down to his shoulder blades, a streak of silver cutting it's way through to the knot the top half of his hair was pulled into, and the deepened crows feet at the corners of his eyes. "When you put that blade through my heart, Justice was in control, and his life essence transferred to me as he was banished back to the fade." 

"No..." Hawke's voice was barely a whisper. Her rage was still boiling within her, but it had lost a bit of it's edge, and grief was beginning to creep it's way in. 

"Lora-" 

"NO." She screamed, and cast dispel, sending him to his knees with a grunt. A band of energy shackled his wrists, and she descended upon him, wrenching his chin up to look at her. But his whiskey eyes held no fear, just calm acceptance. It was the same look they had held as she slid the knife into his heart. Her own heart felt like it was shattering all over again, and she saw his death once more in her mind's eye. 

"I will bring you back to Skyhold, creature." She snarled. "We shall see how you endure under the Nightengale's interrogation." 

"Whatever you need to do to see." He said softly. She ripped her hand away from his face with a noise of disgust, grabbing him under his arm and hauling him to his feet. His familiar herbal scent washed over her, mixed with his distinct blend of sweat and musk. Her broken heart wailed to unbind him, to accept what this man was saying as truth and gather him into her arms. But she would not. Even if he was alive, he was still responsible for the deaths of hundreds of innocents. Millions, if you counted the lives lost in the mage-templar war. 

And Hawke very much did. 

As they descended the mountain, she caught sight of a figure standing a little ways down the path. As they drew up next to Daniel, she shoved Anders at him, and the other mage grabbed a hold of him, raising a dark brow at her. 

"Keep a hold of him." She snarled, stomping down the path. She heard Daniel and Anders begin walking behind her. "And hurry up. He has a date with the Nightengale." 

\----- 

Hawke sat slumped outside the dungeon, arms curled in her lap. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, head spinning like a top. She hadn't been allowed inside while Dorian and Leliana were examining Anders, and in all honesty she probably didn't want to be. Not in her current state. 

Footsteps echoed on the stone steps descending into the dungeon, and Hawke looked up to see Varric enter the room, looking older and more worn than Hawke had seen him since their run in with Batrand five years ago. He spotted Hawke slumped against the wall, and headed in her direction. 

"I was requested to come to the dungeons for the most unbelievable assignment." He said, sitting down next to Hawke. His shoulder brushed against hers. "Nightengale's agent said I was needed to confirm the identity of the man that bombed the Kirkwall Chantry and kicked off the mage rebellion." 

Hawke said nothing, keeping her dead stare at her toes. Varric was silent for a moment, before asking: "Is it really him, Hawke?" 

"I don't know." She whispered. "He bleeds, he's human. Or something like it. But his aura is different. More of him. Before..." she shook her head, not wanting to dive into her memories. But she knew Varric would get it out of her anyways. "Before, I could sense Justice. Now, there's residual from where Justice should be, but it's all him now. I don't..." Hawke sighed, fisting a hand in her hair. "Varric, what am I going to do if it's him?" 

"Do you still love him?" Varric's question earned him a sharp turn of her head and an incredulous look. 

"He's a Maker-damned terrorist, Varric! He murdered those people and began a war! He's cost millions of people their lives!" 

"But do you love him?" Varric's dark, discerning eyes were searching her face, looking for the answer she couldn't give. She cast her gaze upward at a latern, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. Ultimately, however, she failed, and suddenly she was sobbing, grief and anger overwhelming her. Varric wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face in his tunic, choking sobs echoing off the stone walls. Varric rocked her in his arms, hand soothing over her back in small circles, and she felt a few warm teardrops on her shaved temple. 

"I can't go in there, Varric." She hiccupped, hands fisted in his tunic. "I can't do this." 

"You don't have to, Hawke." He said. "I promise, I will make sure you don't have to." 

She couldn't reply, another wave of grief and thankfulness for her best friend overcoming her, and she allowed Varric to lead her, blinded by tears, through a hidden passage to the garden. He helped her into her room and into bed, laying her down and pulling the covers around her shoulders. 

"Can I help?" Cole appeared next to her, blue eyes shining with concern. Varric nodded. 

"I have to go deal with something, then I'll be back. Just sit with her for a while." She heard the door open, then close. Cole began rubbing her temples, and Hawke forced a smile. 

"Thank you, Cole." She mumbled before drifting off to sleep. 

\----- 

Three weeks passed in a blink of an eye, Hawke drifting through the time like she was half awake. Much of the time she was in a fugue, half here and half somewhere else, mind dipping in and out of attentiveness. The rest of the time she sat in her room in a blind rage, allowing her anger and grief to manifest and overcome her where it wouldn't be seen by the general population of Skyhold. 

Leliana had approached her two days after Anders turned himself in, sitting next to her at the bar of the Herald's Rest. Hawke, who had been nursing a cup of wine, had glared up at the spymaster as she slid onto the stool next to her. Leliana, as always, was unperturbed. 

"If you're here for the juicy details of my association with our newest apostate addition, Varric wrote an entire book about it, and he's upstairs with Cole." Hawke jerked her head up toward the attic. Leliana said nothing, just gazed down into her own wine. 

"Or we could just sit in our respective drunken miseries, that works too." Hawke emptied her cup and signaled the bartender for another. 

"Self-pity is a terrible look for you, Hawke." Leliana said, quirking an eyebrow at her. 

"Nonsense, my dear Nightengale, I look fabulous in everything. Including self-deprecation." Hawke nodded to Cabot as he refilled her cup, sliding three silvers on the counter and gesturing to the bottle. He left it with a grunt and pocketed the silver, ambling to the other end of the bar. 

"I thought you would like to know that the prisoner will await judgement by the Inquisitor." Leliana said, swirling her wine glass. "In the meantime, I've done what I can to limit the knowledge that we have him in custody." 

"I'm sure he greatly appreciates it." Hawke said, more of a snap to her voice than she meant. 

"I can have him released into your custody, if you would prefer-" 

"No." Hawke knew Leliana was sussing her out, pushing her buttons to try to get a read, but she couldn't help her tone. The last thing she wanted was Anders anywhere near her. 

"Hawke-" Leliana began, but Hawke waved her off, grabbing her bottle of wine and her cup and making her way up the stairs to the attic. She slipped out the door and into the blissfully cool night, climbing the stairs to the battlements where she first met Adele. She leaned against the wall, draining her cup and casting it aside with a clang. The pleasant buzz of drunkenness began to descend over her, and she leaned dangerously into it's embrace. 

"Hawke?" She started and whirled around to find the Commander standing behind her, puzzled expression on his face. She pressed a hand to her chest. 

"Maker, Cullen, don't sneak up on me like that." 

"I've been standing here this whole time." His brows narrowed at her, eyes flicking between her face and the wine bottle in her hand. 

"Oh, well then..." Hawke sat heavily down on a nearby crate, leaning back against the wall. "Care for a drink?" 

The Commander fidgeted for a moment before joining her on the crate, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. Hawke noticed he looked paler and thinner than he had been when she saw him last, deep purple circles beneath his eyes. He wasn't in his full armor, simply his arming doublet that seemed to hang slightly loose on him. 

"The withdrawal rearing it's ugly head again?" Hawke asked, tipping the bottle up. Cullen's head jerked toward her, brows narrowing. 

"How did-?" 

"You're not the only one who takes nighttime walks in the garden. Helps with the claustrophobia of such a small accommodation." She gestured broadly to indicate her sarcasm, and Cullen sighed next to her, leaning his head back on the wall. 

"I haven't told anyone what I heard, of course." She said, tipping the bottle toward him in offering. He turned faintly green and shook his head, declining silently with a wave of his hand. Hawke shrugged and set the bottle down in front of her. "I don't enjoy risking Madame Inquisitor's wrath." 

"You're not afraid of mine?" His tone was joking. 

"Darling, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm about as afraid of you as I am a field mouse." She chuckled as he cast her a raised brow. "Oh, don't get me wrong, the 'big tough warrior' angle is super intimidating, but I think we've known each other long enough to agree you're a gentle giant." 

"I can be intimidating..." he mumbled to his knees. 

"Of course, darling." Hawke patted his hand and moved to stand. She'd had about enough human interaction today, time to escape to her quarters before he brought up Anders... 

"How are you doing? You know, with... everything..." 

Shit. 

"The wine helps." She said, trying for a nonchalant grin and mangling it into a grimace. "I just pretend nothing has changed. He's dead to me anyways." 

She turned to escape, but was stopped by his gentle voice. "Hawke... if you need anything-" 

"Don't." She said sharply. Temper two, Hawke zero. "I'm coping, Cullen. The last thing I need is people feeling sorry for me." 

And with that she took off, leaving the Commander on the crate behind her. 

Dorian left the next morning for Caer Bronach. Apparently there had been an ambush on the Inquisitor's team, by bandits with poisoned weapons. Solas had been injured and very nearly died in the scuffle, and Adele's mana stores had been so depleted keeping him alive for the ride to the keep she had still been asleep at the time the letter was sent. Cullen was fretting over allowing the team to continue on with the assignment with someone out for the Inquisitor, pacing back and forth at the war table. 

"What if the ambush extends to their mission on the storm coast?" He said, leaning heavily on the war table. 

"I would know if my agents were compromised, Commander." Leliana said in a soothing tone. Josephine and Hawke exchanged a knowing glance over Cullen's head. 

"I say we leave it up to the Inquisitor, don't you think?" Hawke said. 

"I will send scouts to clear the roads ahead of them, just to be safe." Leliana said, placing her marker on Crestwood. "That should help matters." 

Cullen rubbed the back on his neck. "Very well. If there is nothing left to discuss?" 

"No, Commander." Josephine dismissed them all, and Hawke turned to follow Cullen out, only to be stopped by Josephine's soft call of "Serah Hawke? A moment?" 

Hawke braced herself, having a faint idea of what was coming. "Yes, Lady Montiliyet?" 

"I know this is somewhat of a sensitive topic," Josephine began, glancing at Leliana. "But we want to give you the option of having Anders released into your custody." 

"As I told the Nightengale," Hawke said, tampering down the wave of anger and grief that seemed to constantly threaten to consume her lately. "I do not wish to babysit a terrorist." 

"But..." Josephine set down her clipboard for the first time since Hawke had met her, pacing slowly around the table. "He was your lover, yes? Are you certain-" 

"If you remember, dear Ambassador, I put a knife between his shoulderblades." Hawke sneered, losing control of her anger for a moment. She reined it in, taking a deep steadying breath. "Not that anyone seems to stay dead, nowadays." She muttered. 

"I see." Josephine retreated, leaning against the table. "We will leave his final judgement to the Inquisitor, then." 

"Yes, do that." Hawke stormed from the room, feeling her self control slipping, and made for her room before she lost control. 

She was plagued by nightmares, every single night, for three weeks. Finally, after waking once again in a cold sweat, feeling Anders' gentle hands morph into the wicked talons of a Vengeance demon on her skin, she threw the covers off her and stalked down to the dungeons in a frenzy, not bothering to change from her sweat soaked tunic and breeches. She burst into the holding cells, bare feet slapping against the floor, causing the guards on patrol to jump, hands flying to their weapons. When they saw her they relaxed, hands crossing their chests in salute. But Hawke's red-rimmed glare was fixed on the only occupied cell, the figure within posed cross-legged on the floor. 

"Leave us." She snapped at the guards, aura dense and oppressive in the cavern. 

"B-but Serah-" 

"Now!" The torches on the wall flared, lighting every corner of the chamber. The guards bowed shakily and practically ran from the room. A low chuckle echoed through the dungeon, and she prowled toward the cell. 

"I had forgotten just how terrifying you can be when you put your mind to it." His gentle voice scratched at Hawke's frayed emotional barrier, and the part of her she had buried so long ago reared it's head and screamed to be released. 

"I don't know what you're playing at," she growled, approaching the bars of his cell. "But stay out of my dreams." 

Anders raised his head and cast her a sad smile. His hair had fallen from his loose topknot, shadowing his face in long golden locks. His outer robes were gone, and he was left in nothing but a loose black tunic and patched Grey breeches. His whiskey eyes were shadowed, scruff grown out to cover his jaw and upper lip in silver-blonde hair. 

"I'm no somniari, Hawke. You know this." 

"I don't know anything about you." She snapped, swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat. "It's been three years. You could have developed new skills." She folded her arms across her chest, trying to hide the shivers of exhaustion that were racking her body. His lips thinned, and she knew she had failed. 

"I've had to rebuild my strength." He said, getting to his feet and approaching the bars. "For a time, I thought my magic had disappeared. Thankfully, it didn't, and I have finally recovered." 

"Is that why you chose now to return?" She said, trying to keep the exhaustion from slurring her words. Anders' brows narrowed at her, and he looked her up and down. 

"How long has it been since you slept?" 

"That's none of your concern." She snapped. "Answer my question." 

"I did want to be stronger before I returned, yes." He leaned against the bars, hair falling into his face and casting further shadow across his eyes. "But the main reason was because word of your arrival at Skyhold had reached me. I hadn't been able to find you before." 

Hawke ran a hand through her hair, pacing in front of the cell. "What the hell did you expect me to do, Anders? What exactly were you expecting? A warm welcome back? For me to take you back in like nothing had happened?" 

"I just..." he sighed, forhead falling against the bars, eyes closing against her onslaught. "I needed to see you. One more time. No matter the consequences." 

Hawke stopped pacing and looked at him. "You know the worst part about it all, Anders? You lied to me, about finding a way to separate yourself from Justice. If you had told me what was happening, I could have-" 

"Justice wouldn't allow it." He said suddenly, the first trace of irritation tinging his voice. "I was barely in control in the end, every time I tried to tell you he-" he cut off suddenly, shaking his head. "I don't blame you for your anger, or if you never forgive me. But I need you to know..." 

He took a steadying breath, and Hawke felt herself drawn toward the bars despite herself, coming to stand just on the other side. 

"Don't." She said quietly, fighting the tears welling up in her eyes. 

"I love you, Lora. I have never stopped loving you." She closed her eyes and bit her lip against the tears pouring down her cheeks. She felt his hand tentatively brush against hers, fingertips trailing the length of her fingers. The gesture was so uniquely him, so painfully reminiscent of their beginning, that Hawke choked back a sob. "And if I have done too much damage to be redeemed in your eyes, I'm fine with that. But I needed you to know. No matter what comes, no matter how this ends, I am yours." 

Grief, pure and all-encompassing, extinguished the rage burning within her. She gritted her teeth against the voice inside her screaming to take his hand and opened her eyes, a fresh wave of tears cascading down her cheeks. It felt like just yesterday she had begun to move forward from his death, and now she was forced to reopen the wound. A mirage of broken promises and stolen dreams flashed through her mind, casting shadows over the blinding gold of their beautiful life together. 

She took a step back, and his hand fell to his side. 

"The Inquisitor returns in two days." Hawke said, voice lifeless to her ears. "She is a good, forgiving woman, and will more than likely offer you a chance at redemption. If you turn on her, I will make sure you stay dead this time." She scrubbed the tears from her cheeks and turned away from him. "My mistakes have haunted her enough. Don't be one of them." 

She left before he had the opportunity to respond, the door to the dungeon slamming shut with a final thud behind her. The guards were waiting outside, and at the top of the stairs stood Varric, dressed in his sleep clothes, a look of impossible sadness on his face. She reached him and he wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her back to her room in companionable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, Mom life and work life took over for a bit, and I wanted to really deep dive into Anders' character so I could do this correctly. They did him so dirty y'all. Boy deserved better.
> 
> And yeah it's not Canon compliant but humor me. Sassy bi apostate is one of my favorites. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and to those who have left kudos. I really appreciate it!

**Author's Note:**

> I would honestly give my left arm to play as Hawke again.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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